In Blood and Fear
by The Black Sacrament
Summary: Oerion Dragonborn IV of House Skuldafn is alone in the world with his twin sister, Lydia Skuldafn. The two are the last of the dragons beyond the wall. The myth of the Dragonborn lies waiting in their blood. In Blood and Fear they will take back the home that the walkers have taken from them. Their voices will shake the realm. Skyrim/ASOIAF slight crossover. D/L A/O
1. The Black Sacrament

**I've wanted a Skyrim/ASOIAF crossover that's good for quite a while. Hopefully there are others who love skyrim like I love skyrim. There will be elements of a few skyrim themes in this story. Enjoy;)**

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" **Sweet Mother, Sweet Mother,**

 **Send your child unto me**

 **For the sins of the unworthy**

 **Must be baptized**

 **In Blood and Fear."**

The north is a place of ice, cold hands, and wolves lurking in the trees.

The Starks had been the most valued house in the north for centuries. Not one house could claim any differently. Their name holds an inherit strength. The myths of their beginning are noble and regarded as inerrant truth. Every northern house bows to the wolves of Winterfell with no apparent shame.

Except house Skuldafn. Who's sigil depicts a single dragon in the shape of a diamond. Who's words are, "In Blood and Fear". A formidable house of guerrilla warfare and powers once seen only in the children of the forest. Covered in many myths that look so similar to truth when you dig deep enough.

My house had been around longer than the Starks but we stayed under the radar. Our home lies behind the Wall. Through the ancient trees and bitter winds we worship the Mother. Not the one of mercy but the Mother who knows the void. The Mother who speaks for Sithis, the embodiment of the void. Not many worship or know of her.

Due to tales of our beliefs and our training as members of The Dark Brotherhood, we brought fear to all who knew. Every child born in Wintersbane is raised as a skilled fighter and assassin not unlike the Faceless Men. Though we do not change faces, we are trained to hide them and move like the wind.

So as a consequence of our deadliness and fierce stoicism, Wildlings daren't wandered through our walls. A few adventurous fools would come only to be given over to Sithis. Even in my childhood they came and entered the void. Because the void welcomes fools of honor and fools of curiosity.

Our legendary tales haunted them too. Our Black Sacrament used as a war chant as we hunted down those who wished to harm us. Our Valyrian swords ready to carve and slice men in half. Though we had our wars with the Wildlings, we eventually became cordial.

Despite our truce, they still told their tales like everyone else across Planetos. We were like the Dothraki of Westeros.

They said we had scaled skin and reptilian eyes. That the Dragons Beyond the Wall eat children and drink the blood of children. We were tales spun to children by wet nurses to keep the fear of yonder real and true in men.

Not even Aegon the Conqueror conquered us nor did they conquer the Wildlings.

He'd heard the tales spun by the King Who Knelt. He'd heard the songs sang in the streets. Many of them about the Dragonborn who's voice can bring the dragons to their knees. About the silver eyed dragons beyond the wall. He didn't dare test the legend.

It is said that the dragonborn comes every other thousand years through the blood of the Skuldafn. Only in the walls of Wintersbane can they be born. The voice of the dragonborn shakes the foundation of the realm and can bend the will of a dragon. Even destroy whitewalkers without effort. I personally scoffed at the thought.

Our origins traced back to Valyria, which I never understood. My father always told me that our forefather and my namesake, Oerion Dragonborn of House Skuldafn, fled Valyria for the north on a dragon before the doom. For what reason, we do not know.

He'd been known for his skill in taming dragons with his voice and even killing the wild ones. They called him the Dovakiin, the dragonborn, for the way the dragons bent to his will like one of their own. He spoke the language of the dragons called Thu'um. It shook the ground with its power.

I never believed that and even hated that my mother and father did when they made Lydia and I learn Valyrian. It was beautiful, yes, but it was a language we didn't need at the time. Though, we ended up using it to hide things from those who couldn't speak it.

Anyway, my house kept our heads down and our swords ready for battle for centuries. The one thing we are masters of is death. Our existence remained a myth to the more prominent houses.

Our spacious home of Wintersbane, built from an odd type of stone forged by dragon fire. Bran the Builder himself was said to have built it by Oerion's side with help from his dragon, Alduin The Worldeater. The few outsiders who saw it swore it so. The architecture of the place elicited awe.

Alduin is said to be buried directly outside the walls of Wintersbane. His body perfectly preserved in the frozen ground.

They didn't call us wolves like the Starks. More like wolf tamers and Snow Dragons. They told tales of the Skuldafn clan riding direwolves into battle with weapons made of bone. They said we lurked in the ice like the wolves, ready to hunt.

Our eyes wide and steel grey, almost silver. Hair jet black and dreaded in knots, thick as a lion's mane. Our voices booming in warcries that shake the earth and send chills down even a wight's back.

My wet nurse always had such wonderful tales.

The truth is, my family was once strong and fierce. The terror that resides in the night for any that dared to wander upon our land. The Skuldafns used to be a formidable force but now? Well, my twin and I are all that is left.

I remember the night they came, the wights. Their glowing eyes haunt our dreams and memories. They had slaughtered our men, our families, our **name.** All we could do was run in the end. The waves of the dead do not rest nor do they stop to weep.

My mother's eyes, my father's eyes, all lifeless and empty. He'd managed to kill a few with his sword but he was not a young man. His Valyrian sword fell to the ground as they tore into his body. The scream that left my mouth had made me stop fighting to look at her. I'd never forget that look on her face.

She looked at me apologetically. Like she was giving up on her fight. Like she knew we would get away and her time had come to an end. A scream of my own built in my chest as I watched them swarm her. My sister fought even harder with a cry of her own.

"Oerion, Lydia. Run," my mother whispered. The wights ripped to her shreds in front of our very eyes. A piece of my sanity left at the sight of it.

The wights continued to rip our home apart. Lydia was struggling to continue fighting and I had just been disarmed by a particularly strong bastard. I looked to the ground where my father's sword lie, our family sword. I wouldn't let all of our history be lost. The sword embodied us.

The sword has always intrigued me. It was not shaped like a normal sword. The tip of the blade is the shape of a rounded triangle, two sharp points jutting out on the side and one at the top. The Valyrian blade held a design of a man's face. His mouth hanging open in shock and dismay. The pommel displayed our family words.

My father called it the armorslayer on occasion. It deserves the name. I've seen it destroy metal armor with ease, rip through leather, and chop off heads like small branches. He had only let me hold it once and it weighed almost as much as a battle axe. It behaved like one too.

Father said that it was named Soulsnare before magic left the world. Which is why the soul on the sword was screaming in agony. He believed that the souls of the dragons that Oerion the Dragonborn slayed live inside the sword. With the way it destroys, I would say I believe him.

I picked up the heavy greatsword with an ease I didn't expect and called Lydia to follow me. We fought back to back like we were one. We'd practiced this since childhood. Our parents believed one of us to be the dragonborn. If not both of us.

I still don't know how we made it out. I do know that we didn't make it out unscathed. Scars still litter our skin to this day. Lydia's left arm was broken and her face held scars as well. My shoulder had been dislocated and somehow we both still managed to fight.

I had the strongest urge to roar come over me but I held it in. Fear for my twin kept me silent and deadly. We ran with aching legs and injuries. We ran through the trees and the snow. We ran in blood and in fear.

Oerion the first would be proud us for we are something more.

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My sister and I move through the crowds of Mereen in perfect synchronization like we'd practiced since childhood.

Essos has been kind to us northern dragons. We fled our home with this place in mind after the red comet pierced the sky. We had felt the awakening of something inside of us. Something powerful bubbling to the surface like a scream and a pull tugging us here.

Also, our Valyrian tongues are appreciated in this foreign land. Though, our looks bring about suspicion among the people at first glance. Our skin is too pale and our eyes too ethereal. Some of them speak in hushed tones as we pass even now.

The women love us, though. Twins are seen as good fortune here and bedding them spreads the wealth. I don't know how I feel about that. My sister and I are close but she's not too fond of men or sharing her women. I personally don't care either way.

"Where the fuck are we goin' again, Ori?"

I rolled my eyes at Lydia's wandering mind. We had planned this the other day and yet she insists on forgetting everything after a night of Dornish horsepiss and women.

"We are going to see if the hearsay is true. There is a supposed Targaryen in our midst," I said smirking. Lydia gave me a sidelong glance. "I know you want to see a dragon just as much as I do. I know you can feel the power."

She huffed in annoyance but did not disagree. She knew what I spoke of. The blossoming desire that welled in us to follow the pull. Even if we don't really believe we are Dovahkiins, we have to see if the dragons are real. If they are, that means that maybe the feelings we have are what we think they are. Maybe our parents weren't crazy...

As we got closer to the place where the "Mother of Dragons" resided, we saw a sight unlike any we expected.

Circling the large pyramid, was a huge dragon that dwarfed any imagination we had conjured up. The beast castes a shadow over the pyramid with ease as it circled. Lydia grabbed my hand to steady herself.

"Motha and Fatha would have shit bricks if they saw this," she said, gaping at the creature. I nodded and swallowed thickly.

The overwhelming pull in my chest grew stronger at the sight of it. The urge to release a roar tingling and clawing in my throat. I could see that my sister felt the same. Her throat bobbed unconsciously.

"Alright, maybe we are the Dovakiins. We can't just start shouting the thing out of the sky. She has armies," Lydia reasoned. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "What are we going to do?"

I stared at the beast some more as it landed somewhat gently on top of the pyramid. It's eyes found us from afar and it roared. Our hackles rose at the challenge. I could almost understand what the beast was trying to say. After all, the dragonborn know the dragon tongue inherently.

"I say we go meet this Targaryen and see if she's anything like Aerys. If so, we see if we can bend her dragons to our willl. If not, we try to get her on our side. Show her the threat of the Night King," I explained, cracking my huge knuckles.

Lydia turned to look me in the eye, brows raised in surprise. She never saw me as a fighter. She'd always been the roughest even though I am the only son. Even though I dwarf her in size, she was the fighter between us. I felt pride in her gaze.

"Wow, little brotha. I see you've grown a pair of balls," she rasped, smirking evilly. I shoved her in jest and walked toward our destination. "If Cicero was still alive he'd be proud of you."

"I'm not little and you're only older by a few minutes ya cunt. Oh and that fool Cicero was a bloodthirsty killer. I miss him though."

Her condescending laugh irritated my ear drums as I stared at the large dragons circling the pyramid.

Our journey was finally beginning.


	2. Kneel

When we decided to request entrance to the pyramid, we didn't expect the Unsullied to be so horribly distrustful. It shows in the way my nose and jaw ache.

I struggled in the arms of two guards and gained a knock on the head by a spear. It hurt like fuck. Lydia growled at them and spewed Valyrian insults at them as they continued to drag us along. I could almost feel my sister's mounting anger about to overflow.

" _There is no need to be so rough,"_ I said in Valyrian. Their grips became even harder and I rolled my eyes.

" _Shut up,"_ one of them growled. Lydia scoffed at their rudeness.

"These fuckers really have sticks up their arses."

I laughed discreetly as we came to some huge double doors. I assumed this was where the so called queen was just because. Noble people love extravagant interior design. My mother and father always spoke of their frivolousness.

One of the soldiers knocked on the door and I felt something in my throat. I rarely ever became nervous but I'd heard so much about this woman. Common folk whispered about her beauty and her power. I forgot that she could kill us and not even think twice about it.

The doors opened to a throne room unlike any we had seen before. Granted, we'd never truly seen any other than our mother and father's but this one didn't disappoint. I love the darkness color of everything and the bare design of the throne. The guards let go with a shove and I growled under my breath.

The woman sitting upon the throne wasn't so bad either. Lydia seemed to agree as well. Her silver hair fell in loose curls down her shoulders. Her violet eyes pierced into us with annoyance and slight intrigue. I could see the curves of her body through her skin tight gown.

"You are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. The Mother of Dragons. The Unburnt. The Breaker of Chains. Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea," a young woman said from beside her.

I couldn't help but stare at the girl. Her chocolate skin and plump lips did something to my nether regions. After arriving here, Lydia and I both couldn't get enough of the darker women. We'd been missing out for many a year. Living deep in the north had its cons.

"Who are you and why are you here," the mother of dragons said in a bored tone.

I felt slightly offended. A Skuldafn is not someone to dismiss easily but I couldn't give her our true name. Lydia sneered at the ground and I assumed she knew that.

"I'm Oerion..Snow and this is my twin Lydia Snow," I said confidently. I licked my bottom lip and winced. It had busted open. "We've come to pledge our swords to your cause...your grace."

Daenerys raised a brow and turned to someone. I followed her gaze and was met with none other than Tyrion Lannister. I had never seen the man but I'd heard much. I never thought I'd get to meet him either but I could say that about the last Targaryen too.

"You said your last name is Snow," Tyrion drawled behind a glass of wine. His eyes flickering from mine to my sister's. I inwardly groaned. "Who is your father?"

I was just about to stumble over my words and ruin the entire plan. Which would result in our heads being mounted on spikes like they probably deserved to be. But, like always, Lydia saves the day.

"Jeor Mormont. He died on the Wall before we could make ourselves known to him. A night of warmth turned into two look alike bastards," Lydia said, convincingly.

She actually seemed like she would tear up. I could feel that she was thinking about our parents. Remembering the way they died and how their eyes were so devoid of warmth. I grabbed my sister's hand squeezed before letting go. She kept her gaze on the queen in a way that made my brows raise.

"Do you believe they are whom they say they are," Daenerys asked. I licked my lips at her voice. The way she spoke with such authority made me jealous that I couldn't admit my true identity.

"Yes, it isn't uncommon for men going to the wall. Also, Jorah would love to know he has siblings here when he comes back," Tyrion said. I almost cringed. Jorah was still alive?

"For what reason have you two come all the way from Westeros to pledge yourselves to me," Daenerys asked, sitting up straighter. I saw Lydia's nostrils flare from my peripherals. I knew that look and I knew what would happen.

"We've come because Cersei is batshit crazy and only you can get her to fuck off," Lydia said, smirking. I nudged her forcefully and scowled at me. "Your grace."

Daenerys looked amused at us for moment before wiping her face clean. She examined us in silence for a while and I felt extremely naked. Being a huge man doesn't make me any less self conscious. We have both culminated many scars since we fled our home.

"I've noticed the scars on your faces. Are you sell swords? Faceless men?"

Lydia and I glanced at each other and held in laughter. We are sell swords but not faceless men. More like Dark Brotherhood experts of death but we can't say that. Even though our tactics are similar to them, we are not able to switch faces. I find that I like the challenge of killing somewhat fairer.

"Yes, your grace. We are sellswords but we wish to fight for you for free. We've had swords in our hands since childhood. I feel that our expertise would only add to your strength," I said, keeping eye contact.

"Also, we know much about the north and all the other seven kingdoms," Lydia added. I smiled a bit as we coordinated unconsciously. Having a twin has its perks.

Daenerys whispered to Tyrion heavily and I decided to do the same with my sister. It seemed like they were really trying to decide whether our pretty heads would look better on a spike or in front of an army.

"I'm more worried about my sword than our heads. I could take these Unsullied easily," I whispered to Lyds. She grinned and rolled her eyes at me. She knows that Soulsnare means a lot to me.

"You act like that sword is your cock, Ori. You should really sell it."

I glared at her evilly.

"It was our forefathers sword, Lyd. Its Valyrian steel. It can kill walkers. I'm not selling shit."

"They're gonna want to know where you got it from you oaf," Lydia whispered furiously. I glanced at Daenerys and Tyrion to see them finishing their discussion.

"I'll handle it. We're _sellswords_ remember? We steal and shit. That's how we got it."

They turned back to us and we straighten up as if on cue. Daenerys watched us with narrowed eyes. Annoyance welled in me. It's understandable to be suspicious but damn. Be more gullible so we can secure our place already.

"I'll welcome you as long as you swear your blades to my cause. Which is sitting on the iron throne," she said, staring us down. I kept my face straight. "If you go against me I will feed you to my dragons."

I knelt on one knee and heard Lydia do the same. _Skuldafns don't kneel,_ I can hear my father saying. But right now it's necessary to gain this woman's trust and rid Westoros of the threat. Both of them. We need our home back.

"I swear it by the old gods and the new," we said in unison, bowing our heads. We'd went over not exposing that we worshiped Sithis and the Sweet Mother. That would tell all.

This journey would be interesting indeed...if we could stay alive.


	3. Sweet Mother

I didn't expect being around dragons to be so uncomfortable.

It takes a lot for me not to explode in unfounded fury while being so close to them. Even being around Daenerys is tense. I don't think she notices but I definitely do. So does Lydia. She has the most difficultly do to her short temper. I'm hoping we get into some sort of battle soon so we can unleash our powers for the first time.

Looking into my mirror, I groan at what I see. It's been so long since I've shaved and my beard is outrageous. My fingers curl through the long strands out of instinct. I don't want to cut it all of a sudden but I do have to maintain it if I want to stay pretty.

I grab a makeshift razor I'd made almost a year ago and go through my process.

I cut my beardline into a sharper shape. Pull the longest hairs of it and cut them even with the rest. Once I have finished, I run a hand over my hair. Only to groan once agin. I forgot all about my long, black mane. It curls wildly down to my shoulder blades when I untie it.

"God, I look like Lydia," I whispered in annoyance. We are both cursed with thick, shining black hair. It curls like a writhing snake.

As I struggle to comb through the tangled mess, my chamber door creaks open. I grabbed my dagger discreetly and pretended not to notice my intruder. Their footsteps land softly, telling me the person is female. This doesn't soothe me. An assassin has no sex.

"Oerion was it? You seem to be struggling," Daenerys said from behind me.

My brows shot up and I turn around with a gruff expression. "Yes, I have no experience with my own hair it seems."

Daenerys chuckled at me as she came closer. Her face was serene and thoughtful. Her eyes drifting around my room and back to my hair curiously. I wonder what brought her here of all places in this god forsaken pyramid. We've only spoken about her war since I've been here.

"Your hair would be exquisite if you knew how to maintain it," she quipped. My brows shot up. I didn't expect kindness. "I can show you if you'd like?"

I pondered this for a moment and examined the woman. She seemed genuine enough. I could see that she held no background of fighting or killing by her own hand. I'd also like to feel a woman's touch again. It has been so long since I've felt the warmth of a kind soul, absent of lust.

I nodded slightly and watched as she moved to sit in a chair by my bed. She looked at me with a small smile as I eyed her. Something about this moment reminded me of my mother. Her soft gaze and patient stature. My heart clenched a bit. The memories rushing back.

I sat down between her legs with a sigh. She grabbed the comb from my hand and began her work. Her fingers massaged my scalp and detangled with the ease of a professional. I didn't mind the few snags she hit at all. Just having a woman's touch was enough.

"Why has your sister not helped you with your hair," she asked quietly. Her voice was not accusing or angry. Just curious and as soft as the candle light illuminating my chambers.

"I don't let her touch it," I said, almost inaudibly. Her fingers stopped for moment and I wanted to urge her on. "I don't let anyone touch it."

Daenerys hummed and began to braid my hair. From what I could feel, it was similar to the way the Dothraki have theirs. I pondered never cutting it until I lost a battle just like them. Having a woman want to touch it was rewarding enough to make me consider it.

"Why?"

I took a deep breath and looked down at my arms. Tattoos riddled my skin like warpaint. Aleksandra lie scrawled on my large bicep in Bravosi font. My mother would always be with me, if only in my skin.

"My mother was the only one that ever touched my hair. She is dead. Lydia is all I have," I whispered. Daenerys placed her hands on my broad shoulders to comfort me.

"Why are you letting me?"

I tense under her soft touch and turn to look at her. The look in her eyes is one I know too well. She expects me to make a move on her. She expects me, a warrior, to be overcome by lust and forget my pain. But, she doesn't know me at all. My father always said that a man's lust is his enemy.

"You remind me of her."

I felt like a weakling displaying my pain to this strong woman. I'm a huge man that would be formidable to any foe that stands in my way. I draw blood and fear from those who cross me and now I'm quivering under a woman's touch. Deep down I'm still that seventeen year old boy that watched his family die.

"Oerion, you have a family now in me. In every person who allies themselves with me. You and your sister will never be alone as long as you are with me," Daenerys said adamantly. I was now standing in front of her looking down.

She stood up slowly to look me in the eyes. Her hand came up to trace a long scar on my eyebrow. I closed my eyes at the touch. My right hand came up to grab her wrist and my eyes shot open as she jumped. The queen seemed surprised by how soft my touch was.

"You remind me of someone," she whispered. Her eyes were watery and threatening to overflow. I encased her delicate face in my hands cautiously. She leaned into them without hesitation.

"Drogo was the first man I ever truly loved."

I wrapped my arms around her as the tears spilled over. As the tears of this woman I didn't know at all ran down my chest, I felt something I hadn't in a while with anyone other than Lydia.

I felt affection. Pure and innocent.

When Daenerys finally calmed down, I loosened my grip on her. I watched as she stepped back and wiped the tears away. Turning back into that strong, regal queen that I met days ago. It seemed like she hadn't had time to grieve this Drogo. I hope that I helped her.

"Thank you, Ser Snow," she said, straightening her spine. Her eyes were glued to a spot just behind me. I quirked a brow at the title but said nothing. "I must retire to my chambers."

I nodded as she walked past me and made her way to the door. A small smile creeped to my plump lips without my knowledge. I know that she is extremely embarrassed about losing her bearings.

"Your grace," I called. Daenerys turned around halfway through the door. She seemed slightly annoyed at the title. Seeing as I'd refused to call her it earlier. "My door is always opened."

I could see the quirk of her lips by the candlelight. It made my own spread into a fond smile. This woman is warming my dead heart.

"Call me Dany."

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Having Dany braid my hair became commonplace and so did our talks.

Tyrion gave me suspicious looks. Lydia glared at us. Missandei smiled discreetly. Varys just gave us a knowing look. They were all completely wrong.

Honestly, all we do is talk. Sometimes we cry and let our emotions out just to release the built up tension. Dany lets me hold her sometimes and other times she holds me. I am fond of her embrace. It reminds me of easier times.

One can't always be strong and fierce. After so many years of death and losing loved ones, you have to let go. I told Lydia this but she's too strong. She could never allow her guard to be let down. Even though I see her and Dany when she thinks I'm not around.

I notice the jealous glances she gives us when we're together and the happiness that lights up her face when she's talking to Dany. It has been two and a half years since our family died and I haven't seen true happiness blossom in her until now.

It almost makes me jealous...

Sure, Dany and I might talk about deeper things. Sure, we comfort each other emotional. But...our connection is not deeper than friendship. I would go so far as saying she is like a sister. Despite the odd vibes she gives me unknowingly.

I can see the effect she is having on Lydia and I quite like it. I just wish that I could have what they are moving towards. I've never been truly in love with any person. I want to know what that feels like. To be feel the need to protect someone other than my sister.

For the first time in months, I ponder crossing the sea to Westeros again. Something is calling me.


	4. Journey

So many angry eyes were trained upon me. I felt like I'd asked to slay one the queen's dragon. All I wanted was to follow my heart.

"You're asking me to let you go after you begged to join me," Daenerys said, nostrils flaring in annoyance. I rolled my silver eyes and crossed my arms.

"Yes. I am not leaving forever. I am simply going to scout out the realm you're trying to take. You know that I would never betray you or Lydia," I explained, confidently.

Lydia scowled from the queen's side and wouldn't look at me. We hadn't been apart for long since birth and I hated to leave her. However, I have to follow my gut. I have to seek out the remaining Starks and warn them of the wights. If they don't know already.

Dany thought for a while before giving me a soft look. It was almost motherly. Filled with concern and weariness. I had to look away to keep from feeling bad. I hated having her concerned about me. She was already so overwhelmed with taking over Westeros.

"I will allow you to leave, but once I cross the narrow sea and take Dragonstone you must rejoin me," she said, sitting straighter in her throne.

I smiled a bit and bowed before her in acquiescence. Lydia didn't look pleased at all but I couldn't help that. As long as she is safe and with Dany then she will be fine. At least I hope so.

"You can take one of my ships. I expect a raven once you step foot on dry land," Danerys said, adamantly. I grinned a bit and adjusted Soulsnare on my back.

"Do not do anything stupid, Ori. If you get hurt I'll kill you," Lydia said, walking towards me. I lowered my head as she came in front of me. I felt horrible for leaving her. "Promise me."

I looked at her sadly and nodded.

"I promise."

She slowly wrapped her arms around me. I sighed into her thick hair. I really did not want to leave but we don't all get what we want. I wrapped my big arms around her and picked her up. She growled at me like an animal before laughing. Dany smiled at us discreetly.

"Well, I'll be on my way. Expect those ravens," I said, putting my sister down. She nodded and turned around only to look back at me somberly.

"Remember, in blood and fear, Ori," she whispered. My face went stony and I nodded once. I understood what she meant completely. All of my foes would know as well.

With that I walked out the doors carrying a heavy burden upon my back.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

The ride back to Westeros was amazingly boring. My ass and back ached from laying down and sitting around. I basically had a permanent hangover due to my excessive drinking. It helped to pass the time while stranded out at sea.

It did help me in some ways though. I pondered my job for a long time. I have to gain insights on Cersei and her army. I have to find the Starks and let them know about my house and what happened to it. After all, we are still myths to the northern houses. Even worse with only two of us left.

Once I stepped foot on dry ground it took awhile for me to adjust to being stable. My head throbbed for days as I road one of the Dothraki horses to the North. I missed the cold winds and the biting snow. Being a Skuldafn, it never bothered us at all. Winter welcomes us with opened arms as white as snow.

I made my way closer to the north slowly. On the way, I ran into bandits and taverns that threatened to slow me down. It did not stop me but it did make me very frustrated. Seeing the horrible people in the world and the lust that encompasses many of us. I decided to stop for a while in the ever frosting forest for camp.

I sat in front of my fire on a log. My mind wandered to Lydia and Daenerys. I wonder what's going on with them? Maybe Lydia has finally gotten into the queen's expensive undergarments?

Now I regret not feelings something for Dany. I'm sure she would have been very delicious in bed.

I startled and snapped my head to the side as my horse reared up in alarm. I stood up and ripped Soulsnare from my back, readying myself. The slight crunching of leaves irritated my sensitive ears. _Small feet,_ I surmised. _A woman approaches. Possibly a young assassin._

I gripped my massive greatsword in one hand and listened to the movement of the feet coming forward. My hackles rose up like a wolf and the need to roar in annoyance overwhelmed me. My Thu'um, dragon tongue, itched to say the ancient words that I somehow instinctively know.

"If you come out now I won't rip you apart," I growled, crouching into a fighting position.

The footfalls stopped somehow closer to me than I expected. So close that I jumped into a barrel roll, narrowly escaping the plunge of a sword. I got up quickly and gripped my sword in both hands. My muscles tensed as I flushed the anger from my body to fight smarter.

A girl stands before me in a black cloak. Her hair is dark, short and choppy. Her eyes are grey and harsh as she glares at me. She wildly beautiful. Something in my mind screams dangerous. Even though she would only reach my shoulder if we stood side by side.

"Who are you and why are you here," the girl said, calmly. I kept my expression blank and lowered my weapon. The girl's accent indicated the north was her home.

"I am a traveler and I am looking for the Starks," I said, holding my sword behind my back casually. The girls face twitched with barely hidden outrage.

"What do you want with the Starks, _traveler,"_ she said, stepping forward. I stood my ground without fear. The girl seemed miffed by this.

I decided that maybe I should give her a bit more truth so that she may be more comfortable with me. I sheathed my sword slowly and crossed my arms. The girl looked at me incredulously. I guess she thought that I was underestimating her.

"I haven't been truthful. My name is Oerion Dragonborn of House Skuldafn. I am seeking out the Starks because the north is in danger. I don't know if they know it yet but I am here to help save the north."

The girl stared at me with a gobsmacked expression. For a moment I thought she would scoff at me. She is obviously a northern girl and she seems to know about the myths. I ponder if she'll try to kill me if she doesn't believe my revelation.

"You're a Skuldafn? A _dragon from beyond the wall?"_

Her voice was not as disbelieving as I thought she would. The girl stepped forward even more so that she was only two feet away. I didn't dare back up. Though I am not underestimating her, I won't show my apprehensiveness blatantly.

"Yes, I am. I also have a twin sister called Lydia. She is in Essos," I said, uncrossing my arms. The wild girl nodded but examined my face for any deceit. "May I ask your name?"

The girl scoffed and sheathed her skinny sword with ease. I raised my brows as sat down on my log and enjoyed _my fire_ like it was hers. I took her lowered guard as a sign of her believing my statements. I also felt irritated with her lack of response.

I walked over to the log and sat on the far end as to not alarm her. I kept my eyes on the fire while she looked me over from her side. She looked like she was trying to piece together a puzzle of some kind. My chest tightened unexpectedly and I took a deep breath to steady myself.

"I can take you to Winterfell on one condition, _dragon_ ," the girl said, standing. I turned toward her with a forced calm expression and stood as well. I nodded for her to continue. "If I see any deception I will kill you."

She didn't wait for me to answer or react. The girl disappeared into the trees without making a sound. I felt a bit of intrigue blossom as I mounted my steed. How could a girl, possibly two years younger than me, be so expert in stealth? I wondered what hardships this wild _woman_ had experienced to make her this dangerous.

The sound of hooves hitting the ground caught my attention. The woman sat upon a white horse with her hood over her head. Those gray eyes shined in moonlight almost like mine but not as silver. The short woman rode up beside me.

"My name is Arya Stark of Winterfell. Follow me."


	5. She Wolf

The ride to Winterfell was slow but I didn't mind at all.

Arya Stark of Winterfell rarely spoke to me in the beginning. She'd send side long glances and scowls when I asked a question. It did not deter me from speaking though. I'm stubborn in that way. Also, the woman intrigues me like no other. She reminds me of Lydia and mother. So wild and dangerous.

Eventually she gave in to my questioning. She told me of her Faceless Man training and her list. She told me about Sansa being the lady of Winterfell in Jon Snow's absence. When I found out that Daenerys left shortly after me, I blanched.

She hadn't waited long at all to set out for Dragonstone. How long had I been traveling on the sea and traversing the lands of Westeros? I don't know. All I remember is days flowing together seamlessly.

We came through the gates finally without a hitch. The guards at the gate seemed to be weary of Arya and looked upon me in fear. My large stature upon my black horse. My large weapon hanging from my back. I smirked discreetly as the people whispered about who I might be.

"I will take you to Sansa," Arya said, hopping off her horse. I suppress a laugh at how the beast dwarfs her and do the same. "Lord Baelish whispers in her ear. He is not to be trusted at all. Remember that."

She turned on her heel gracefully. Leaving me to lumber behind her with a confused expression. I'd only heard whispers of Lord Baelish and his scheming. I'd have his head if he threatened the Starks...

This Arya Stark especially.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Arya knocked upon Sansa's door and quickly barged in. I followed instinctively but felt bad. Sansa stared at us in outrage and a bit of fear. A large man she doesn't know, armed to the teeth, just barged in on her. That made me feel like a shite but I do have business here to attended to.

"What is the meaning of this," Lady Sansa said standing. I can't help but grin a little as her eyes bulge at me.

She is beautiful like I'd imagined a Stark woman to be. Tall and statuesque with red hair. Sharp features adorn her face and make her look like every bit of the lady she is. Despite this, she does not attract me. Wild beauty is what I like, it seems. A woman that more embodies a wolf more than anything else.

"This is Lord Oerion Skuldafn of Wintersbane. His home was overtaken by the whitewalkers," Arya said, standing in front of me. I could see directly over her head which amused me more than the title she gave me.

"He's come to warn the other Lords and Ladies. To pledge his loyalty to Jon's cause and help us kill the Night King."

Sansa stared at her sister and then at me incredulously. No doubt she couldn't believe the myths of my house are real. Her expression turned solemn though. A certain acceptance shone through her visage. I feel relief immediately.

"Well, I suppose that if the Night King lives then the "Dragons Beyond the Wall" do as well," she sighed. I nodded slowly and relaxed my stance behind Arya. "Do you have any men to fight with us?"

I sighed heavily and shook my head.

"No, my sister and I are the only two that got out of Wintersbane alive. She is with Daenerys Targaryen in Dragonstone as we speak, my lady. Once convinced of the threat, I know her armies and dragons with be behind the cause."

They both looked at me in surprise. I hadn't told Arya this for a reason. I didn't know how she felt about Daenerys even though I should've asked at the time. Seeing as Jon is there, there shouldn't be much opposition to my sister being there.

"Lydia and I pledged our allegiance to house Targaryen so that she could help with the Night King when we asked for it. Having Jon there will help as well," I said, crossing my bare arms.

They seemed to understand my reasoning so far. As Sansa opened her mouth to speak, the door burst open again. I turned around defensively and guarded the two sisters with my body as best I could.

Lord Baelish gapes at me like I was a fairy. Well, more like a giant. The small man has to look up at me.

"I apologize for interrupting...my lord. I need to speak with lady Sansa."

I straightened up and hid my disgust at his mere presence. Something in this man's eyes spoke of secrets and plans. The way he examines me is obviously calculating. I won't let him try to manipulate Sansa and especially little Arya.

"Yes, of course, Lord Baelish," I said, looking back at Arya and Sansa. My eyes conveyed my warning. Sansa understood and nodded discreetly. "Arya and I will be on our way."

I grabbed Arya's hand boldly and began pulling her out of the room. My armored chest bumped the smaller man harshly as I squeezed past.

"My lord? May I ask your name," the shrewd man asked. I stopped for a moment and stared into his eyes fiercely. He flinched back minutely.

"Lord Oerion," I said scowling. Arya tugged my hand in vain. "There are many eyes around here, my lord. You should beware. Some are forged of Blood and Fear."

I turned away and let go of Arya's hand. We walked away from the idiot seething silently.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

 _Lydia Dragonborn of House Skuldafn. My sister and equal in all things. I have made it to Winterfell. Just as I know that Jon Snow, the King in the North, has made it to you. They know about the Night King and his minions just as we do. I'm sure you know this._

 _Let Daenerys know about our real status and what happened to our house. We need to let her know what we've seen and our lineage. She will trust in you and not be afraid of our growing powers._

 _And, tell her that Cersei has plans to unite with Euron Greyjoy to destroy her ships from what our acquaintance in Kings Landing says. Be weary of Casterly Rock. I just have a bad feeling about it. Tell her to think like a lion surround by wolves. What would she do to stay alive? To keep her name alive?_

 _I also must say that I've met someone. Jon Snow's sister, Arya Stark of Winterfell. She is so much like you, Lyd. She's wild and fierce like mother too. A killer just like us. A Faceless Man, Lydia. I never imagined meeting one, let alone wanting one. I feel this need, not to protect her, but to fight beside her always. I'm fucking insane. I don't know her at all._

 _Anyway, burn this letter. Let Daenerys know I wrote and that I'm alive. I love you very much and I want you to be safe. Use the Thu'um if you have to. For we came into the world roaring as dragons and we will leave it in the same fashion._

 _Oerion Dragonborn of House Skuldafn._

 _In Blood and Fear._

I rolled the letter up gently. Then I melted the red wax I bought from one of the stores here in Winterfell. I took my ring off and dipped it into the hot wax. My father had made us both a ring with our sigil when we were fourteen. The lone dragon in the shape of a diamond appeared as I pressed it to the letter and sealed it.

I blew the wax gently until it cooled. My lips spread into a smile as I looked upon my houses sigil. Almost extinct. Barely living except through me and my sister. Hope blossoms in my chest. Everything is settling into place.

"For a warrior, you don't pay attention much," Arya said from behind me. Her voice is smooth and almost amused.

My lips twitched into a smile before I make it vanish. I heard the girl creep in but thought nothing of it. I shouldn't trust someone I've just met but her aura attracts me. Such a small girl but such an intriguing figure. I like the mystery behind her.

"I'm not a warrior so much as I am a killer," I said, turning my chair to see her. She stares at me like I'm a puzzle before sitting on my bed. She barely makes a dent.

Silence settles for a moment. We just look at each other. I notice a scar on her forehead that I didn't before. It's smaller than the one on my brow but still there. I wonder who or what would even think to harm this wild girl. They must have had fool writ upon their foreheads.

"I got that scar from a waif," Arya murmured. Her voice is matter of fact. No emotion creeps through and I'm impressed with her stoicism.

"Did you give her over to the void?"

Arya's lip twitches in amusement. My choice of words favor my own sect of assassins. Something tells me that she is not just a killer but a learned one. Nothing seems to escape her.

"Aye. Though her face still remains," she said, standing slowly. Her hand rests on the hilt of a Valyrian dagger on her side. My blood doesn't run cold nor do my muscles tense. "What about you? That scar on your brow isn't for decoration, my lord."

I lower my head at the memories. All those dead eyes surrounding me. Men of bones and no fear to be seen. That was a scary sight. Where there is no fear, there is nothing to gain.

"Whitewalkers. That's all I have to say."

I gazed at the ring my father forged me and my house sigil. "My sister and I are the last heirs. For women and bastards are equal beyond the wall. Evenstill, we have an entire dead army to beat back just to get it."

Silence overcame the candle lit room. My aching chest the only thing keeping me company. Suddenly, cold fingers tilted my chin up. If anyone could see this spectacle they would bawl with laughter. A small girl cradling the face of a mountainous man. I couldn't find it in me to care.

"You will get it back, my lord," she said, a finger carressing my scar before they both dropped. I immediately missed the touch. "First, you need to stop whining and pick up your sword. No fight was ever won through tears."

I narrowed my eyes at the small, wild girl as she walked over to my chamber door. I felt slightly insulted but also even more attracted to her. I've always been a masochistic bastard. A strong woman is worth a thousand armies.

She turned back once more before walking out the door. Her gray eyes hard but also understanding. "I don't know who you truly are but I do know this. You're a dragon just as I am a wolf. Let it become you."

I sat dumbfounded as she walked out the door. The sound of it closing behind her rang in my brain. _I don't know who you truly are,_ she'd said to me. I told her when we rode here. Perhaps she means something else. What is my deepest fear or desire?

I don't know and I don't know this Arya Stark either. I do know exactly what I _want_ to know though. In the deepest reaches of my mind.

 _Who is Arya Stark of Winterfell and why does she enrapture my mind?_


	6. The Raven

The Godswood is not new to me at all.

I remember my father, Miraak Skuldafn, The Dark Dragon is what they called him. He would meditate by the tree. His back to it in such a way that he could remain connected to the power.

As a child, I watched him do this every Sundas at sunfall. His eyes would turn white as ivory and I would run to tell my mother. I thought in my heart that he had taken ill each time. She would pat my thick mane and smile at my ignorance. A smile that was genuine and motherly.

 _"Your father is connected to the trees, little dragon. He sees more than us," she said, combing her fingers through my hair._

 _My confused eight year old mind didn't understand what she meant. I didn't know what green seers were or wargs despite the fact that a few of the people that lived around me had the abilities._

 _"Momma, can I do that when I get big?"_

 _My mother chuckled lightly and picked me up. I smiled and played with her long, blonde dreads. They were long and thick ropes that had never been cut. My father had the same style though his were longer and black. My little fingers loved to explore the thick knots._

 _"You can do and be whatever you desire, my love. This world is dark and full of terrors but also full of opportunities."_

Now, I sit like my father used to. My back against the tree fully and my legs crossed over on another. I connected with him somehow. The man was as big as me. Had the same eyes and the same long mane of hair. Despite these facts, doing the thing that he used to do makes me feel his presence more.

I close my eyes and breathe in deeply. Memories flash behind my eyes and I smile despite myself. My childhood was a beautiful experience but also strenuous. The lessons and the hunting. The sword fighting and the hand to hand combat. The best was being marked into the family with our traditional tattoos.

My sister and I finished our training at age fifteen. The reward for every child is the traditional markings. The arms are covered completely with dragon tongue using black ashes and ink. The back is marked with the words of our house. Just beneath the chest lies the Sweet Mother in her golden age. Her wings span behind her and she kneels with her head facing to the west.

The pain is unbearable but it is the last test combined with the reward. If one cannot bear the pain and goes unfinished, they are seen as failures and must begin again. It is worse than The Hunt by far. At least for Lydia and I.

They dropped us off deep in the northern trees blindfolded, two at a time. Lydia and I went together, as is custom for siblings. They sent us alone with nothing but undergarments on our bodies and a horn to signal forfeit. A fortnight is all we have to survive and make our way back. Many blow the horn before the fortnight is over.

Lydia and I ran into a sight that we didn't expect at all. Two white bears ready to kill us and eat our flesh. All we had was makeshift weapons. I had a stone axe and Lydia, a spear. We felt fear, yes, but fear is a given. Fear is necessary for bravery and courage.

 _"I'll take the one on the right," I whispered in Valyrian tongue. Lydia grinned dangerously and steadied her spear. We both saw a reward in these bears. A nice thick pelt for us to take home._

 _"I wonder what bear tastes like," she hissed. The bears roared and began charging us from a distance. Their teeth gleaned in the moonlight._

 _I sneered at the beasts and crouched defensively. "Let us find out."_

 _We charged headlong into the battle. In Blood and Fear we would have our furs... and a meal._

I laugh heartily at the memory. The bears we worthy foes for us. Their size was a problem but in the end we came home wrapped in furs. Picking meat from our teeth with the claws of the bears. I still have one that my mother made a necklace out of. So does Lydia.

For so long they my sister Lydia the Huntress and I, Oerion the Red due to bloody stains on my lips. What a glorious time for us. Our people worshiped us and my father believed us worthy to rule Wintersbane. Prodigies, he called us.

Well, look at us now father.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Arya jabs her needle forward, missing me by a fraction. I grin and swing my sword at her furiously. She rolls away and back in quickly, stabbing at my neck. I duck and ram into her with my shoulder. Sending her to the ground, gentler than expected.

She growls at me like animal.

"Why did you stop? I'm on the ground! You could have made a kill!"

I roll my eyes at her need to prove herself.

"I know, Arya. I'm just trying to help you learn how to fight a much larger opponent."

She huffs and stands up, dusting herself off. I smirk and get into an unfamiliar stance. She narrows her eyes at me in confusion.

"What are you doing," she asked, readying her blade. Her stance is obviously Bravosi. I decide that I should show her how to mask her skill.

I shake my head and wave her forth. She wastes no time in charging me.

Arya is a very skilled fighter with little left to learn. The thing is that one should not show their foe exactly how deadly they are until its too late for them.

I notice how her face contorts as she parries and strikes. Her brows raise as I execute a wild move that displays inexperience. She knows I'm more capable than that and it confuses her. Arya lets confidence reign and goes for the kill when I feign an opening.

The tip of her needle comes careening toward my neck. Just as it comes too close, I kick her wrist and send it flying away. She stumbles a bit and reaches for her dagger. I swoop in behind her and grab her arms in one hand. The other points my sword at her throat.

We breathe heavily as our position sets in. I've beaten the mighty She Wolf. What a feat for me but really I'm sweating from our proximity. I lower my sword and let her go reluctantly. She looks back at incredulously.

"How?"

"Show a thirsty man water and give him poison," I said, ominously. She became thoughtful causing me to smile. I like knowing that I can teach her something.

"Lord Oerion, a raven came for you."

I looked up to the balcony to see Lady Sansa holding a letter. The look on her face was haunted. I presume she watched us soar from above. Beside her stood Little Finger. The smirk on his face made me clutch my sword subconsciously.

Something about him makes me want to kill.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

 _Little brother, I apologize for my late response. I've informed Dany about our lineage though I was reluctant. She did not take it well at first. It took Tyrion and Jon Snow to convince her when they themselves were skeptical. She wishes we told her straight away._

 _Dany is furious with you. You were supposed to come to Dragonstone when she landed and yet you've remained in Winterfell with your Arya Stark. She must be otherworldly if she has you by the balls, little brother. Even Aela couldn't turn you into a pup like this one has._

 _Despite my need to comfort you, i must give you this conflicting news. Jon Snow and Jorah Mormont have just taken to traveling north. They wish to capture a walker and convince Cersei of the true threat. They are on their way to East Watch by the sea for this mission._

 _I argued to Dany that I should go with them. We both know that I have experience with the land beyond the Wall but she would not let me go. As you know, we are quite close and have gotten even closer if you understand what I'm implying. I don't resent being under her thumb but I am a warrior. I wish I could behave like one._

 _If you wish to join them, go to East Watch, brother. They need all the men they can get. Especially one that knows the true North like you do. I love you and keep your sword arm strong._

 _Lydia Dragonborn of House Skuldafn_

 _In Blood and Fear_

When I finish reading, I'm relieved but also I'm annoyed. How could those two be so stupid as travel beyond the wall be themselves. There is no way that I can let them do this alone. The true North is my home and by right I help them in this endeavor. If only to show Daenerys that I'm not abandoning her entirely.

"Bad news," Arya said from behind me.

She loves to "sneak" into my room but right now I'm not in the mood. There is so much that has to be done. So many threats to _her_ and to my sister. To everything that we know and appreciate. It's just becoming too much.

"Look, I need to be alone right now," I hissed angrily. Arya stared at me in shock. I felt bad inside immediately. I don't like hurting her feelings.

"No, you're going to tell me what's going on," she said. I scowl as she steps closer to me. I don't know what I'm capable of right now. I don't want to chase her away. "Talk to me."

I don't want to tell her that I'm leaving, I realize. I don't even want to leave. If only I could stay here and learn more about her. Fall even farther into the feelings I have around her and ignore the threat beyond the wall.

I just can't do that. I have to ensure her safety if I even wish to have times in which I can bask in her presence. With no underlying paranoia.

When I look in her eyes I can't hold it back anymore. "Arya, I have to leave."

She looks at me oddly. Like I'm lying to get a reaction out of her. I wish that I was. She walks closer to slowly.

"You're joking. You've only been here for a fortnight and now you're leaving," she yelled, fists balled up in fury. I'm taken aback by how emotional she is. I've never seen her this way toward me. About me.

"Your brother and Ser Jorah Mormont are ranging beyond the Wall in search of a walker. They to show Cersei the threat," I explain, calming down.

Arya seethes silently. She paces the room with her small hands grasping her hair. I can understand her annoyance. Her own brother risking her life for an evil queen while she can do nothing but wait.

"I'm going to help them. I know the North like no other."

She stopped in front of me ready to argue all the reasons I shouldn't go, but she stopped. Conflicted because I would be helping her brother stay alive. Also not wanting me to die. For which I am utterly pleased if my presumptions prove correct.

"I don't want you to go," she whispered. "I feel like _me_ when you're here...I feel safe."

Her voice is small and filled with emotion. She stares into my eyes, neck tilted back comically. My heart beats wildly in my chest at her admission. I've never been as flustered than in this moment here and now. Sometimes the dragon bows to the she wolfs influence.

"I don't want to leave you," I whispered. My hands clench with the need to touch her. To wrap my arms around her small body and hold her close. "But I can't sit back and let Westeros be taken over by the dead. I have to help get rid of them because I don't ever want to have to leave you again."

Arya's face shows her shock and I am suddenly aware of my own words. I've admitted my deepest desire and now I can't take it back. If I had to choose between Wintersbane and this She Wolf, I would choose her. That is dangerous for me.

She smiles suddenly. It's a smile that I've yet to see. A certain innocence shows through and all my doubt leaves. I am joyous in this moment as her small arms reach up to wrap around my neck. They barely make it but I don't care.

"If you make it out alive I'll never let you leave my side, dragon."

I wrapped my arms around her waist somewhat hesitantly and pulled her up closer to my face. She feels like a sack of feathers in my arms but it feels so right. She fits perfectly against my chest and I don't want to let her go.

"If I make it out alive you'll have to kill me to make me go away, wolf."

Arya leaned in closer and planted small kisses on my cheeks. Making my breath leave my body and a smile spread across my face. We are both teens with the world on our shoulders and yet I feel peace with her so close.

When her lips connect with mine it is like ice and fire battling for dominance. Between a dragon and a wolf some think the dragon will always win.

But, when the dragon falls in love it will give over all power. It will relish in its journey as it drops from the sky.


	7. Dovahkiin

My journey to the wall was stifling. Two more men followed me as aides due to Sansa and Arya's demands. I'm not used to being mothered and I'd rather not. I did not fight them on it though. Arya had glared at me murderously enough for me to know better.

The girl wouldn't take no for an answer.

Henric and Edric rode in the front of the carriage. They seemed able enough. If not a bit talkative. I like my silence and these two fucks haven't stopped talking since we exited the walls of Winterfell. Their curiosity over me is becoming nerve racking.

"My lord, might I ask where you got that weapon? It's a wanky shape. Reminds me of a cock," Henric called over the racket of the carriage. I growled under my breath.

"It's my family sword. If you don't want it down your fucking throat you'll shut the fuck up," I said, deadly calm. I could almost hear his throat bob over the wind.

"Fucking hell! I like this lad! I can never get this fucker to shut his mouth, my lord," Edric laughed, turning around to give me a grin. I glared at him and turned away.

They kept going on about random topics. The best whores around Westoros. The most beautiful wenches in Winterfell. Who has the best sword. Where I actually come from and which sister I'm bedding. They droned on and I blocked them out. Thinking about Arya and that kiss.

She'd slept in my room. Not for anything nefarious. I just held her the whole night through. I don't think I've ever slept so soundly in my life. Having her lie upon my chest is the most comfortable thing I've yet to experience. I long to turn around and have her lips on mine again.

"You ever heard the tale of Lady Stoneheart," Edric said ominously. Henric shook his head in confusion and I rolled me eyes. Of course he'd pick a supposedly scary tale halfway to the Wall.

"Edric, have you heard the tale of the Dragon and the Silver Tongues," I whispered in his ear. Edric shook his head. Sending his brown hair waving about. I grinned evilly.

"Once there was a black dragon with scales as sharp as knives. He was the size of a mountain and he breathed ice instead of fire. Freezing everything in his path. He came upon two men one winters day. One of black hair and one of brown. The men had silver tongues and spoke quicker than Lan the Clever himself.

They talked and talked. Spewing silver upon the dragon when he landed to hear them speak. The dragon listened but before long it became too much. These men spoke so longwindedly that everything they said irritated the dragon horribly.

When the dragon finally had enough, he opened his glorious jaws and swallowed the men. He chewed them up like lamb chops and gulped their delicious flesh. The silver tongued men never spoke again. Not even when the black dragon shat them out like the dung they are."

The men stared at me blankly as I grinned at them. I could make out the fear in their eyes distinctly. I've always been a fan of only speaking when you have something to say. Small talk makes my arse hurt. Especially from idiots thinking what they say holds any merit.

"I've never heard that one..," Edric said quietly, turning around. I just chuckled darkly.

"Of course, I just made it up. If you want it to remain a tale you'll be silent for the rest of this godforsaken journey," I hissed.

The sound of the horses is deafening amidst the silence.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

"Open the gate!"

I sit straight up as we come to the main gate of East Watch. My adrenaline is pumping something fierce. I'm not altogether sure if Jon and Ser Jorah have already wandered beyond the wall. If they have then we have a lonely walk ahead.

As we walk to the gate, the watchmen file through with their torches ablazing. One man looks out of place amongst them. He doesn't wear the same garb and his beard is grey. His hair also is salted with age. From the look on his face he doesn't know me either. Good.

"Who are you," the man said. Not in a rude way. I couldn't fault him for not knowing who I am.

"My name is Oerion Skuldafn of Wintersbane. I've come to assist Jon Snow in his mission. Though I must be too late," I said, eyes wandering over the men in front of me. They are watching the other two men with curiosity.

"These are Edric and Henric. They've come to assist as well, sir."

The two fools wave like little boys and I grind my teeth. The white haired man smiles at me in relief. He seems confident in my ability to intervene already. I straighten my posture and grin slightly. I've always been one to get a big head.

"Well lad, I am Ser Davos. Excuse the Fleabottom accent," he said reaching out a hand for me to shake. I shake and notice that his finger tips are missing. A thief or a traitor? "You have missed them by a few hours but seeing as you're from beyond the wall. You know how to track them down. Let's get you on your way. One of their men was sent back and they need all the men they can get."

The Watchmen look at me like they're incredulous and I narrow my eyes at them. They haven't moved an inch to let me pass. I don't have time for questions and suspicions right now. They'll just have to get over themselves. If they want this threat helped at all they'll let me pass.

"Look, I am from beyond the wall. No, I am not an untrustworthy Wildling. Now, may I get on with this so I can make sure your friends don't fucking die?"

The Commander looks at me wide eyed and nods. I think he remembers my sister and I requesting to come through a few years ago. He looks up at me like I'm a myth come to life. I'm not the Night King but I like to think that my looks make me godly. Surely if he saw me he wouldn't be able to forget such an experience.

"Of course, my lord. Follow me," he said, solemnly. I inclined my head toward him and gestured my two men forward.

"You ready to die boys," I called, laughing aloud. I could almost hear them gulp behind me. Such twats they are. I feel bad for them but I'll try to keep them safe.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Being beyond the wall again is like being at home. If only it were that easy. If only I could travel to my home. I might do just that if we get what we came for. Everything should still be there. Except for my people of course.

We follow the footsteps closely. There are at least eight sets of them. They hadn't been absolutely idiotic but eight men is still not enough in my mind. At least bring an army or a dragon. Unless you want to die that is.

"It's cold," Henric said from behind me. My teeth are grinding together again but I try to keep cool. I should've come alone.

"Yeah, my balls are about to fall off," Edric whined. He rubbed his crotch absentmindedly and I almost gagged.

I gripped my sword tightly and shook my head. "You won't need em if don't get out of here alive, Eddy."

He huffs and walks faster beside me. I don't think they believe that these undead are even real. If so then they're in for a rude and deadly awakening. You can't unsee the things we're about to see.

Finally, I can here they groaning of the dead. This sound is one that has haunted my nightmares since the first time I heard it. My hand grips my sword tighter and my adrenaline begins to rush. It's time.

"Do you hear that," Eddy said, shaking. I look at him stoically and nod my head. He is wide eyed and panting already.

"Get ready for what is about to happen. I don't want you two to die no matter how much I want to strangle you but please. Keep your heads. This is for the North," I hissed beneath my breath. They look frightened for a moment before nodding solemnly. They know it's time to man up. To ensure we all live.

"Follow my lead."

The sight that we come upon is much worse than I expected. My jaw drops at the sheer waves of dead that I see surrounding the island that the men stand upon. We will not be able to get through this horde without getting torn apart. I have to do something.

One of the men on the island falls into the sea of the dead and Jon looks on in horror. A horrible fury comes over me at seeing such a senseless death. They rip him to shreds like he's nothing. Somehow I catch Jon Snow's eye over the hordes of walkers. He looks completely stunned and lost.

I know what I have to do. I can feel it boiling over inside me now.

"Stay behind me," I yell over the screeching of the dead. My men rush to take cover behind me and I tap into the power.

It's like a lightning strike hits my body. Time slows down until everything is coming to a halt. I can feel the words on my tongue before I even say them. My father always said that the Thu'um is apart of the dragonborn. Somewhere deep inside the blood, it lingers ready to be used.

I can feel my eyes shift and gloss into blackness.

" ** _Fus Ro Dah_** ," I roared. It was like the clapping of thunder. The ground shook beneath us.

The effect is almost instant as time rushes back to catch up with everything. We watch as the dead fly away from us from the utter power of my voice. The effect is devasting to the walkers like father said it would be. My veins are aflame with power.

"How did you do that," Henric called as I start forward. I barely have the will to answer him through my euphoria.

"It doesn't matter. Make your way to the island. I'll flank."

They run past me frantically trying to get to the other men. I watch Jon and the gang standing as they were blown back from the residual force of the Thu'um. They are wide eyed and incredulous but start fighting again. They must accept that nothing is impossible.

Wights come rushing up beside me like they have a chance. I swing Soulsnare with power and precision. Cutting them down like the branches of a tree. One by one they fall. I continue my journey with power shooting through me.

As I make it to the island, everyone is taking down the dead. I look out over the frozen lake and see the Night King staring back at me. Blue eyes like stone. His flunkies behind him staring as well. My lips curl into a snarl at the challenge. I feel like he's taunting me. He knows what he did.

I'm yanked back when I begin to step down from the island. Just in time to be missed by a blaze of fiery glory. The screams of the dragons rattle my ears and I fall back as the heat waves rush at me.

I look up into the sky and see Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal wreaking havoc. They rain hellfire upon the Night Kings army and we watch as they are engulfed in glorious dragon flame. This is the first time that I feel kinship with the dragons. I can hear them speak their beautiful language like no other.

 _Yol Toor Shul,_ they shout. It's my time to show them that I am brethren.

Jon Snow grabs my arm to pull my back again and I give him a look. My eyes are black as night and he flinches when he sees them.

"My lord, you'll get burned if you wander out there," he said, looking at me like I'm crazy. I shook my head at him. He has such little faith.

"Jon, I am the Dragonborn," I said, simply. He stared at me wide eyed. I yank my arm away and jump down into the frozen lake, looking for foes to decimate.

Wights come rushing toward me fast and I steady myself. The flames of the Yol Toor Shul lick up my throat as I summon the shout. It feels like a welcoming heat rolling up my body. Ready to engulf all of my foes.

" ** _Yol Toor Shul!_** "

Flames erupt from my throat like a waterfall of death. The wights fall fighting the flames in vain. I shower them in my Thu'um in a nonstop spray until there were none in my way. I stumble as Drogon lands on the island to cover the other men. His wise eye connects with mine unexpectedly and I stop in my tracks.

" _Dovahzul," he screeches. Dragonblood. I incline my head to him in respect. A shout from above him catches my attention. Upon his back is a welcoming sight._

"Ori! Let's go," Lydia yelled from the back of the dragon. Her arms drape around Daenerys and she lookes frantic. My heart twinges at the sight of her. I didn't realize I missed her so much.

"Jon," Daenerys yells. Everyone was on besides Jon Snow and my two men. He was fighting off more wights to keep them away from Drogon but I don't see Edric and Henric. My heart drops but I have to keep going.

My face goes stony and I run to meet Jon. My legs work hard as my feet pound the ice. When I finally get to him he's just finished off a wight. I grab his shoulder and he jerks defensively before realizing who it is.

"Go get on Drogon. I'll stay back and keep them off you," I said, commandingly. Jon went to protest but was cut off by the sound of a dragon screaming.

We turn around just in time to see Viserion falling from the sky fast. Blood gushes from a wound in chest like a water spout. Drogon's mournful cries pierce our ears as his brother falls to the ground with a resounding crash. The ground shakes as he smashes through the ice.

I watch as he sinks into the icy water, giving up his fight. Fury becomes me in this moment. I feel as though a brother has just fallen in battle. Dragon blood seeps into the ice where he fell and I know what this means.

Jon and I turn toward the Night King. His minion hands him a spear. Most likely another dragon killing spear. Jon gasps sharply and proceeds to run back. He screams for them to leave but I stare the undead king down.

I turn around as the ground cracks however. Jon is nowhere to be seen and bubbles rise from the newly exposed lake. The people upon Drogon look at me frantically and I wave them off. Lydia is outraged as her love ducks down on Drogon, summoning him to fly. She yells for me but her voice is lost in the wind.

I run towards the water, almost falling due to Drogons weight shaking the ground as he takes flight. I have to save Jon and get the hell out of here if we both want to live. I won't put my sister through more loss and grief. I can't.

His sword lays upon the ice. Just as I'm about to jump into the water after him, he rises up from the water to grab it. I breathe a sigh of relief and grave his arm to pull him up. He is shivering heavily and I feel he'll succumb to the cold if we don't leave.

"We have to get out of here. Let me carry you," I said, no really asking. Jon shakes his head and stands. Hands barely able to hold his sword.

I growl and pull him behind me. We only make it to the exit path at the edge of the Moutan before the dead come in waves. We raise our swords in vain. It feels like the end is near. Like this is the last stand.

"I have to shout them away. Take your leave Jon Snow," I command. The dead are getting closer every second but Jon refuses to leave. I hate his honor.

"Wait, what is that?"

A light in the waves of dead. A flame taking out walkers as it moves through the horde. Finally, I can make out a horsemen as it gets closer. Breaking through the front line quickly. A man sits upon a horse. I can't make out his face.

I ready myself for a fight in case this is some sort of advanced wight. He rides up to us and hops off his horse fast, taking down his hood. He looks like a Stark through and through.

"Uncle Benjen," Jon stutters. My eyes widen at the revelation. This Benjen grabs Jon and pushes him onto the horse without effort. "Come with me."

Benjen motions for me to mount the horse as well and I do as I'm told reluctantly. He will surely die if he stays to fight alone. I feel horrible for taking his steed.

"There's no time," he said, slapping the horse on its rear end. The horse pads away quickly and we turn to watch him as we leave.

He fights valiantly at first. His ethereal flame taking out walker after walker but in the end he is lost to the horde. Jon moans in grief at the loss before succumbing to the cold. I wrap my arms around him to somehow distribute my warmth as we ride into the white.

I just hope that this was not in vain.


	8. My Wolf, Her Dragon

_She sits with her back to me as I walk into the room. Her hair is longer than I remember. Waves of ebony hair fall to the middle of her back. A few braids mix in with the rest. Something is so different about this room. Almost familiar but not._

 _My legs are weak in this dream world. It feels like I've been drinking a couple pints of ale. Outside the sun shines in through the window bringing a certain glow to the room. It's not winter I notice suddenly. I feel warmer than I have in years._

 _As I get closer, Arya turns to look at me. My heart clenches in my chest. She looks so much older. Maybe twenty and five. Her features are more pronounced from the loss of baby fat but her smile is the same. She's so ethereal to me._

 _"My dragon, you're awake," she said, smirking. I blush and struggle to say something. Anything. Her voice is more mature and husky than before._

 _"Yes," I choke out finally. Arya laughs her beautiful laugh and waves me forward. I finally notice that she's holding something in her arms. I squint in confusion._

 _"Come and see. Some father you are, sleeping instead of playing with your babes," she said, rolling her dark eyes._

 _My smile drops and so does my jaw. She just called me a father? This really is a dream. One that must have been lying in the deep confines of my subconscious mind. My heart races and I move forward. I can't think straight._

 _Arya unravels the bundles in her arms carefully and I watch, completely enraptured. Two babes lie in her arms barely awake. A tuft_ _of black hair and one of blonde lie on each of their heads. They can't be older than a month or two. And twins, just like me and Lydia._

 _"What are their names," I rasp, my throat feels dry and scratchy. Arya's lips pull into a gentle smile as she turns to look at me._

 _"Mirax and Aleks Of House Skuldafn," Arya announced with confidence. I clutch my heart and sob at the revelation. "I thought it best to name them after your mother and father. I know how much they meant to you, Ori."_

 _I wiped a stray tear from my eye and launched myself at my new family. I lie my head on Arya's shoulder and cradle my children's heads with my right hand. Pride fills my body as they gurgle. I have a chance to start over with a new family. To be with Arya for the rest of my life._

 _"Arya, I love you and our children so much," I whisper fervently. I place my lips to her cheek tearfully and she laughs. I can't help but smile through the emotions._

 _Arya cradles my face with her free hand. We stare into each other's eyes for a moment. Only the sound of our children remains in the background. I never imagined being this happy in my life._

 _"Oerion, I love you...but now isn't our time," Arya whispers._ _My smile vanishes instantly. Tears fall from her eyes like diamonds onto her empty lap. Our children have vanished._

 _I look around desperately for Mirax and Aleks but the room has turned into a snowy landscape. Desolation lies upon the ice covered mountain in front of me. Arya is nowhere to be seen._

 _I turn around and there she is. She is younger now and blood runs from her mouth like a river. She is not alone. So many people stand behind her that I can't see the end of them. I glance behind me for an escape but I see the same thing._

 _I gasp at the sight. All of the people that have ever died by my hand stand behind me. Even some that didn't. My mother and father stand watching me with dead eyes. My best friend, Aela, stands with blood dripping from her stomach. My own heaves and I scream to the Mother._

 _"Oerion, you must kill the boy and let the man live," My father's deep voice calls in the distance. I scream in pain. There's flames all around me. It scorches me to nothing. Suddenly, ice freezes me solid. I can't even blink._

 _"My love, you have to wake up," Arya says, her young voice is almost unfamiliar. She can't be over nine years. Blood drops from her eyes now and I'm horrified. "Wake up."_

 _I scream as ice breaks around me and I fall to the icy ground. My body is charred and frost bitten all at once. My throat aches as I scream from the pain. I won't survive this. I don't want to survive this._

 _"Wake up and live."_

I shoot up roaring like an animal. Fury explodes through me without precedent. Whatever place that I'm in shakes like leaf and I shut up immediately. Taking deep breaths in and out to calm myself from shouting the world apart.

I blink heavily to clear my vision. Everything is blurry and clouded over. I don't know where the fuck I am. I need my senses to be able to defend myself from attackers. For all I know, I could have been captured by the Night King.

"Bad dream," a familiar voice calls sarcastically. I tense up at the proximity but my eyes clear finally. I sigh in relief as Daenerys and Lydia come into view.

They come to sit on the bed cautiously. I can sense that they expect me to fly into a rage randomly. That makes me feel bad. I don't don't know if using the Thu'um made me start changing or what. I just have this fury inside me. I need to get back to Arya.

"Aye, it was a nightmare. Maybe one of the worst," I said, wiping my eyes. I wonder how long I've been asleep?

Daenerys looks completely depressed and Lydia wraps an arm around her. Suddenly I remember what happened. I feel horrible for Dany. Losing a child has to take a major toll on you.

"Dany, I'm so sorry," I said, grabbing her small hand. She nods tearfully and leans into my sister. Lydia looks at her sadly.

"It's not your fault. I had to see it to believe it," she said, quietly. She sniffles and squeezes my hand before letting it go and moving to stand. "I need to go check on Jon. He hasn't awaken as of yet. We will be landing in a nights time."

We watch her go with skeptical eyes. She is hurting inside but doesn't want to show weakness. Looking at Lydia I see that she'll handle all of that when they get back to Dragonstone. My sister really has it bad.

"So, how are you feeling after using the Thu'um little brother?"

I roll my eyes and pull her into a hug. I haven't seen her in so long. Truly seen her and been in her presence. She hugs me back tightly and breathes into my hair. I clench my eyes shut tightly as the dream comes back to my mind. I let go reluctantly and hold her at arms length.

"I'm fine, Lyd. It's easier than I thought. I feel powerful."

Lydia nods and scowls a bit.

"I wanted to use mine but Daenerys wouldn't let me off of Drogon to fight. I swear that woman is too protective of me sometimes. She only let me use it at Dragonstone and when we ambushed the Lannisters."

I narrow my eyes at that. No one had told me about them fighting any battles. I forget about it and move on to a question I've been really wanting to know about for a while.

"So you and the queen," I asked, smirking. Lydia chuckles a bit and nods. Her smile is bigger than I've ever seen it. Love does things to you that nothing else can.

"So you and Jon Snow's sister? How is that going," Lydia asked, smirking wildly. I shove her gently and she punches my arm. We laugh heartily together for the first time in a while.

"It's going. I feel like she's the one, Lyd. It's only been a short time and I hate when I'm away from her," I said, looking down at my bruised hands. I miss her now even worse. That dream made me feel like she isn't safe. I need to make sure. "She makes me feel stronger and...she reminds me of mother."

Lydia's smile becomes somber and she nods slowly. Her hand wraps around mine and massages the bruises away. "I feel the same way about Daenerys. I haven't left her side since we met and I never will. As long as she'll have me."

"Even if that means becoming her queen when she takes the iron throne? Even if that means dying by her side?"

Lydia stopped for a moment to think. Her brows furrowed and she frowned. "If it means I'll be with her then of course. Though I don't like the thought of it, I'd be a fucking amazing queen."

I burst out laughing at her ridiculous ego. I have to admit that she would be. She is just and tactical. She can fight wars and also make commands with the fierceness of a warlord. Lydia will bring a new age to Westeros alongside Daenerys for sure.

"I must be going, little brother. Get some rest," she said, standing. Her face was suddenly solemn as she looked toward the door. I inclined my head toward her.

"We are on our way to Kings Landing. After we convince Cersei of the threat, we will make our way to Winterfell. I suggest you write Arya. Tell her the plan."

I sigh and close my eyes. Even though she is strong I still worry about her. "Of course."

Lydia walks out the door quickly. No doubt going to find her queen. I envy the ease in which she is able to be with her love. I'm stuck here almost a thousand miles away on a ship headed for another dangerous place. What am I to do, my love? Our lives hang in the balance.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

 **Arya**

Little Finger's blood is crusty on the blade of my dagger. A beautiful crimson color that I've grown so accustom to spilling. It took the servants an hour to scrub the stain he left on the floors of the great hall.

I can still see his useless tears as Sansa beckoned me forth. He had played his last game and lost. One does not toy with a pack of wolves without expecting to be bitten. He was not bitten though. He was scratched by his own sharp claw.

"You've received a raven from your...very large friend," Sansa said hesitantly. Her hands fumbled with the scroll. Eyes watching me with suspicious mirth.

"What are you smirking about, dear sister," I said, trying to keep my face neutral. He'd finally written me. I'm not used to worrying about anyone but I...worry about him.

Sansa shook her head with smile and tried to hand over the scroll. Oerion's sigil lie there in red, taunting me. "I may not know the new you yet, Arya, but I know what love looks like when I see it."

I bite my lip hard and try to take the scroll from her with stiff fingers. Sansa grips it harder and stares me in the eyes. I have to look away from her. I feel like she sees right through me. This...love, or whatever it is, makes me feel weak.

"You love him," Sansa said accusingly. My heart jumped in my chest for the first time since my father died. How could she know when I myself can't even admit it?

"I don't know what love means. He makes me feel like there are ravens flying around in my gut. But he also makes me so angry," I muttered. My hand grips the dagger on the table tightly. "There is only one thing I know better than anything else. This...love scares me more than any foe I've faced."

Sansa scoffs and tosses the scroll over to me. "You are not just an assassin. You are Arya Stark of Winterfell and you deserve to be loved," she said adamantly. I lowered my head. "If you don't know what love is, learn. If you knew the way he looks at you, you wouldn't be so hesitant, little sister."

I look up at her in disbelief. Sansa becomes thoughtful for a moment and sighs heavily.

"You don't know how lucky you are."

Sansa takes her leave with a proud smile. I roll my eyes at her need to taunt me. The scroll feels odd in my hands. Knowing that he had thought of me enough to send it. My heart is warm. These feelings are so foreign.

I unravel the scroll slowly. As I begin to read, tears develop in my eyes. He reminds me of my father. This man. This beautiful man is the bane of my solitude. I've always been fine with being alone until now. I want him here beside me for as long as I can manage.

I can only hope for his safe return. I may not know everything about Oerion Skuldafn, my dragon. But I know that his foes are mine and none will harm him once he has returned to me.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

 _My Wolf, we made it out alive. Jon Snow lives. Now we are on our way to Kings Landing with a wight. We plan to show Cersei that the Great War is real and it is here. After that we will be on our way to Winterfell. All of us, including Daenerys and my sister. You will enjoy her._

 _I would have wished to see you first. Being away is more strenuous than need be. Though I know that when we meet again I will be stronger for it. I will know that nothing, not even the gods, can keep us apart. I can only hope that you feel as strongly, My Lady._

 _I pray to the Mother for your safety and your health. I pray for strength in your sword arm and clarity in your mind. I pray for your enemies. For they know not what they've done nor what darkness lies ahead. You and I together will be a force like the gods have never seen._

 _Oerion Dragonborn of House Skuldafn_

 _In Blood and Fear_


	9. High Altitude

**So Oerion looks like Brock O'hurn** **for a reference and Lydia looks like Marie Avgeropoulos from the 100. So basically Octavia Blake, her character but with silver eyes and black hair for both. They're really really hot.**

Our plans changed out of nowhere. Daenerys was always one for making an entrance. I should have known better. Seeing as Cersei is her competition, she decided that a display of power is necessary. She wouldn't have it any other way.

I ducked my head down as I flew through the air. Daenerys and my sister flew beside me on Drogon looking thoroughly calm. While I halfway panicked over being so high up. Being a Dovahkiin doesn't mean you just adjust to flying on a dragon immediately.

Daenerys and Lydia had remembered to bring the armor I wore when I first came to Mereen. I was ecstatic because Lydia had configured it into the way hers is now. It has Dark Brotherhood aspects. Like the black hood and mask attached. I'm more grateful now because they keep the wind from my eyes.

She also made us helmets that looked like dragon heads. We left them on the boat because we would probably have to do some talking. The armor is black and scaled like a dragon. The breast plate has our sigil embossed in silver. The colors of our house. The shoulders are adorned with the dragonlike horns. Soulsnare resides on my back and Lydia's axe, Dragonsclaw, lies upon hers.

We would be making an entrance for sure.

As we made our way toward Kings Landing, I grinned behind my mask. Lydia and I had been here once before. The common folk sang our song as we walked through the streets. They had cheered and announced the return of magic to the world. It surprised me that even the south knew of our lore.

 _"Do you want to go to the brothel? I heard Kings Landing has the best whores in Westeros," Lydia said, grinning like mad. Her black hair swayed behind her as we strolled._

 _I shook my head and grinned._

 _"Is that even a question? Where else would we go?"_

 _Lydia laughed like mad and then stopped suddenly. I frowned at her as she stared up into the sky. "What's wrong?"_

 _She pointed and I followed her finger. There, in the bright blue sky, a red comet streaked leaving a trail of blood. My veins suddenly felt like they were on fire. Lydia looked like she felt the same. I gasped as her eyes turned black as coal._

 _"Seven hells," a woman's voice gasped from beside us. I turned toward it and there she stood. An old woman clutching her chest in complete shock._

 _"The dragonborns," she called. I shook my head at visciously but she continued to call out in the streets. "The age of oppression has come! The dragons' return is near!"_

 _Lydia and I were suddenly surrounded with people. Their chattering startled us as we didn't understand what they meant. What our father and mother told us was surely tall tales. There is no way that we could both be dovahzul._

 _"Our hero, our hero claims a warriors heart," they sang in the streets. Lydia and I balked at the song. Mother had sang the song to us many a night. "I tell you, I tell you the dragonborn comes."_

 _She used to tell us that we exited her womb screaming like mad. She said we arrived during an odd blizzard, considering it was a long summer. She sing the song to get us to sleep almost every night. And we'd been Oerion and Lydia Dragonborn since._

 _We walked swiftly away from Fleabottom. More joined in as they followed us. The crowd followed us until we managed to disappear into the shadows. As we climbed atop the buildings, the people sang and danced in the streets._

 _"With a voice wielding power of an ancient nord art," they cheered. We looked at each other with wide eyes. Maybe this could be real. We both felt a growing feeling in us. Maybe we could be the ones._

As we circled the dragon pit, I saw everyone gathering around to look up at us. I grinned and stroked Rhaegals neck as Daenerys landed first. He swooped down and landed gently beside his brother.

" _ **Show them your power** ," _I whisper in dragontongue. Rhaegal growls with fury and Drogon does the same. Looking over, I see Lydia smirking at me. Daenerys just rolls her eyes at us.

Rhaegal kneeled as I jumped off his back. I stroked his large head and listened to him purr while my queens crawled off of Drogon. The dragons took off into the air sending dust everywhere. Thank Sithis I have my mask on.

I strolled over to Lydia's side and we walked towards the group. I caught Cersei's eye and she was looking at us like we were the wights. Her face was neutral but her eyes held unbridled fear. No doubt she knew something.

I notice the Mountain standing beside her and my eyes widen a little behind my hood. I may be tall, about 6'2, but this man is at least seven feet. Fighting him would make me the happiest man alive. A fight that people would sing about for centuries.

Daenerys and Lydia sat down in their chairs and I sat in one beside my sister. An awkward silence sweeps over the the lot of us. I make eye contact with Brienne of Tarth. I squint at her in confusion. She is supposed to be in the north. Brienne shrugs lightly and turns away.

"We've been here for some time," Cersei said, staring at Daenerys. I bite my lip to keep from chuckling at her annoyed expressed. Her jealousy is laughable.

"My apologies," Daenerys said, obviously not sorry at all. Lydia chuckles under her breath and I struggle not to do the same. We have business to attend to.

"Who are your guests? I can't say I've had the pleasure of meeting them," Cersei said, glaring at my sister and I. Lydia nudges me with an indignant expression and I roll my eyes.

Daenerys looks at us, silently asking if we want to reveal ourselves. I nod at her and turn to Cersei. Removing my hood and mask. She looks at me with raised eyebrows and clasps her hands together. I wonder what she's thinking.

"I am Oerion Dragonborn of House Skuldafn. This is my sister Lydia Dragonborn of House Skuldafn," I said, trying to keep my smirk in control. The other side looked at me like I had three heads and Lydia laughed again. "We are allied with Daenerys of House Targaryen. Now that we have introduced ourselves, may we get to business?"

Cersei sneered at me. "I doubt you are who you say you are. I will not have liars in my presence."

Jaime Lannister turned to his sister and shook his head. I had noticed him looking at Lydia with a haunted expression. She must have really ruined them if he is afraid of her. Wait until he sees us both in action.

"I fought his sister in the field. She really is a...Dragonborn. No doubt he is too," he said, glancing at my sister apprehensively. Lydia grinned visciously at him and Daenerys glared at her mate. "She did almost as much damage as the dragon..."

Cersei shot him a glare and he shut up. He's obviously more whipped than my sister...and that's saying something. I can't imagine having sex with my own twin...I mean we've shared partners but we never touched each other besides cuddling. We're basically the same person. Disgust rolls in my stomach.

"Shall we move on to the reason why we're here," I said with authority. I blanched a bit. I sound like my father a bit too much. He was always no nonsense.

Cersei sneered but acquiesced. Tyrion got up and began to do his little speech. They went back and forth until The Hound brought the wight in. At first, I thought the thing had died. It didn't growl or jump out of the cage until The Hound kicked it over.

The wight charged full force toward Cersei of all people before The Hound pulled it back. I sat through the whole ordeal completely transfixed. Cersei looked like she just saw a ghost. I am quite satisfied with that for a moment because she pledges to help us.

That is until Jon Snow fucks it up for all of us with his honor. Lydia and I scoff quietly when Cersei recants her truce. She leaves haughtily and I just sigh. The bitch can die if she wants to. All I know is that me and mine will survive this somehow. We will fight until the death with or without her armies.

Finally, Tyrion leaves to persuade her. I don't know how I feel about that. He was always kind to me and if he dies I am not standing by. My sister and I alone could decimate her army for sure. With our Thu'um and our fighting skills they would drop like flies.

I look up as Jon Snow strolls toward me. I hadn't really talked to him much besides when we fought the wights. From the look on his face it seems like we're about to talk about something completely off topic. The first thing that comes to mind is Arya.

"My lord," Jon says, kindly. I cringe internally at the title. I don't have a hold at the moment and the title reminds me of that. He sits in Lydia's empty seat and sighs. "You and my sister..."

He trails off uncomfortably and I can't help but laugh aloud. He must think that we've done more than just talking. I must assure him that I quite the gentlemen aside from being a killer.

"Arya and I are merely friends for the time being. What I want with Arya is not about sex," I explain quietly. My eyes follow Daenerys and Lydia as they walk around the pit talking. They look serene despite the situation.

"How is she," he asks, watching them as well. I sigh and clasp my hands together. What should I tell him? That his sister is a an assassin? I can't do that without consent.

"She is doing well. She's been through a lot like we all have but she's healthy and she's home."

Jon smiled a bit and nods slowly. I can see that he loves his sister a lot. That he misses her more than he lets on. I hope he doesn't see me as a threat to her. I can't even fathom hurting her.

"Do you love my sister?" Jon looks me in the eyes now. I hold his gaze easily. I have nothing to hide. He is searching for deception of any kind. No doubt he would kill me if I ever betrayed her.

"Yes, I've only known her for a short time, but I love her very much," I said, completely confident. I'm almost surprised by how easily I admit it. Jon seems even more surprised before looking away.

He sighs and stands as Tyrion appears in the distance. "If you harm Arya in any way I will kill you. I don't know how but I will."

I nod and stand as well. He is shorter than me by a lot but I he isn't perturbed. Jon Snow means every word of his threat no doubt. I don't plan on making him have to go through with it.

"I would not fight it."

Jon nods and gives me one more searching look before walking away. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and follow him. I catch Lydia's eye only to see her snickering. I shake my head at her and continue on.

Bitch.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Cersei pledged her troops to our cause with little effort in the end. Of course, being a skeptic, I didn't believe a word of it. Lydia didn't either and told Daenerys as much. So we carry on to the north as though we've gained nothing just in case the mad queen is cheating us.

I lie back in my bed on the boat completely anxious. We've set sail to White Harbor in order to make it to Winterfell. The hours that I have to wait are taunting me. I just keep going over my reunion with Arya in my mind. I have it all planned out but no doubt I'll forget all about it when I see her.

I received a short letter from her. It only makes the apprehension worse for me. She'd finally gotten rid of Little Finger. That pest had tried to turn Sansa against her only to be ended. I felt pride in Arya when I read that. I've chosen wisely.

A strong woman that can kill and fight just as well as myself or even better. A wild wolf as loyal as they come. I only hope that I am good enough for her. That she's sees something in me that she wants to keep for herself. My years of whoring have surely come to a complete end if she does.

I welcome it with open arms. Sometime you just know.


	10. Mine

-o0o-

The ride to Winterfell is paved with ice. The winds of winter nip the skin of the royal procession. Mounting snow crunches beneath the hooves of the horse and the wheels of the carriages.

In front of the procession, Oerion, Lydia, and Daenerys scout ahead. Jaime Lannister and Jon Snow fall to the back to tend to the armies. Cersei had lied in order to deceive them but her brother was not one to break an oath. He rode to meet the queen with his army despite her threats and combined his forces against with the Targaryen's.

Oerion and his sister smile as the chill rolls over their skin. Being in the unforgiving sun for so long left them longing for the land of always winter. Being here in the north isn't quite the same as beyond the wall but it will do. The white expanses that greet their eyes are more than a welcome sight.

"How are you both smiling? My fingers will surely fall from my hands," the Dragon Queen hissed. She pulled her hood over her silver tresses in annoyance. _Dragons are not meant to tread in ice,_ she mused. "Then I won't even be able to ride a horse let alone rule the Seven Kingdoms."

The Dragonborn twins laughed at the queen's discomfort. Seeing someone so strong squirm in the cold is hilarious. Being born in the desolate lands of always winter had its perks. Their family was known for having ice in their veins. They couldn't remember feeling the bite of frost.

"We hail from the frosts beyond the wall, my love. Northern Dragons. Our mother and father had us trudging through the snow before we were fully able to walk," Lydia said, becoming grinning like mad. Daenerys looked over at her lover with an intrigued expression. She rarely spoke of her childhood and the queen wanted to hear more. She could never know enough about her huntress.

Oerion removed his hood, letting his raven hair fall down his shoulders. He smiled at his riding companions wistfully. "I remember us shoveling snow for hours. That was our punishment. At least they thought it was. Lydia and I saw it as a competition to see who could finish faster. She almost always beat me until my growth spurt. I don't think you ever forgave me for that."

Lydia rolled her silver eyes at her brother. He'd grown into a man overnight it seemed. Lanky and awkward at first but soon became riddled with thick musculature. "Aye. You turned into father over the span of a month. The Skuldafn genes were strong in you but you forget that I am faster on my feet."

Oerion scoffed indignantly and the two dove into a well practiced banter. Daenerys listened and laughed with a grin as they rode closer to their destination. The two had grown on her since they showed up in her throne room. Lydia especially.

Her love for the young huntress had come as a surprise. A simple attraction turned into a flurry of emotions that they could not withhold. The wild woman brought out a strength in the Targaryen that she had never known. She forced her to train as a warrior and not just a queen. Made her realize that having feelings is not a weakness but a strength. Lydia embodies her strength.

Her mind begins to wander.

 _Daenerys peeks through the cracked door with butterflies in her stomach. An unsuspecting Lydia sits upon the floor of her room, doing a flurry of stomach exercises. The queen's chest constricts painfully. She wishes to walk in and claim what is hers. The problem is, it isn't hers just yet._

 _She'd seen the servants looking at her. The lingering glances and secretive smiles. Lydia, for all the bravado and hardened pride she owned, is so prone to flirtation. The way she smirks back makes Daenerys burn with fury. Only she deserved those heated gazes and full rows of glinting white teeth._

 _She opens the door slowly as to not alarm her guest. She fails miserably when it creaks loudly. Lydia jumps up immediately, a small dagger in hand in the shape of a spike. The dragonborn sighs as she recognizes her queen. Her heart pumps faster still at the sight._

 _"Your grace-," Lydia begins. Only to be cut off by a dainty hand. Daenerys closes the door softly, never taking her eyes off her intended. Lydia's toned stomach constricts as she breaths deeply and the dragon queen is on fire again._

 _"Take a seat," Daenerys ordered, flicking her eyes to the chair a few feet away. Lydia scrunched her brows in confusion but the queen's gaze is unwavering._

 _Lydia sat almost shaking as her queen came to stand behind her. Her stomach twisted in knots at just her presence but now, alone, she felt almost faint. As Daenerys began to massage her shoulders, Lydia but her lip to not moan in ecstasy._

 _"To what do I owe this pleasure, your grace," Lydia bit out breathlessly. Daenerys felt annoyed. Hearing this strong woman say her name was a pleasure she seldom knew but she wanted it to spill forth like sweet ambrosia._

 _"Call me Daenerys when we are alone."_

 _"Daenerys," Lydia gasped. She'd hit a particularly tense spot and smoothed it out expertly. Lydia thought she'd ascended to heaven._

 _"I am here because I wanted to see you. I wanted there to be no escape for you. Seeing as you love to steal away from me," the Dragon Queen said smirking._

 _Lydia went to defend herself but stopped short when Daenerys came to stand in front of her. The shorter woman's smirk faded as she looked over the huntress. All pale skin and sinewy muscle and scars. All of the beautiful scars that she wished to kiss. To touch._

 _"I want to make something clear with you, dragonborn," Daenerys said quietly. She straddled the taller woman without hesitation and watched in awe as she almost shook with nerves. Such strength sat beneath. Such power that she wanted panting and moaning and at her mercy. "When I want something, I get it. There is nothing in this world that I cannot have if I want it. You would do well to remember that."_

 _Lydia's heart beat wildly in her chest. Not from fear or trepidation but from pure arousal. Between her legs heat rose unbearably. She'd secretly been pining for the queen but thought it fruitless after Oerion left. She felt half as confident without him but now she sees it all worked in her favor._

 _"And what is it that you desire, Daenerys," she whispered. Her hot hands moved to the queen's hips, gripping firmly. Silver stared deeply into violet without wavering. An understanding passed between. Lydia would not run any longer and Daenerys would have exactly what she wanted._

 _Daenerys smoothed her hands up Lydia's shoulders to the back of her neck. She reveled in the soft, heated skin and wished to feel it against her own. She'd played this game of chase for far too long. Never had she been the one to do such a thing but it made the victory all the sweeter._

 _"You," she said simply._

 _Daenerys dove in, their lips meeting in a soft kiss. It took all she had not to smash them together and battle for dominance. The burn between her legs grew even more insatiable._

 _Lydia broke the kiss, hot hands sliding along strong thighs beneath the queen's dress. Daenerys bit her lip hard and pressed their heads together. Her hips rolled slowly as those hands moved to her inner thighs._

 _"Show me, my queen."_

"Daenerys? Did you hear me? I said we're close to Winterfell," Oerion said, dark eyebrows raised in amusement. Daenerys startled and sputtered a response. Not even remembering what she said.

Lydia glanced at her lover with laughter bubbling up. Of course Lydia knew what it was her queen was daydreaming about. The tell tale blush at her cheeks and the sidelong glances gave it away. She often caught the silver haired woman deep in thought, blushing heavily. She felt like the luckiest woman alive to have such a devoted partner. She still couldn't help but make fun of her.

"Don't worry about her grace, brother. She's just reminiscing on some of our most raunchy moments," Lydia said, grinning manically. Daenerys let her jaw fall open in shock. How dare she say that?

Oerion's eyes widened to saucers. His mind wandered to what exactly his sister had been up to with the queen. He'd seen her in action and knew damn well that Dany was having the time of her life. That made him think about Arya and his heart beat faster. His attraction for her was like a roaring fire in his belly growing to encompassing everything. The anticipation of seeing her is eating him alive.

"Have you and your wolf-" Lydia began, smirking like an evil daedra. Oerion glared at her, cutting her off. He loves his sister but she owns no filter. Whatever she wants to say she will say it with no regrets.

"No. Unlike you, I can control my urges. It will happen when she wants it to and no sooner," he said, kicking his stallion forward. He pulled his hood up and cursed under his breath. Silently cursing his own temper.

Daenerys looked at Lydia sternly. The raven woman rolled her eyes and shrugged. "He wasn't always so easily goaded. He must really like this girl if he's willing to wait. A few years ago he was worse than me."

"I can't imagine anyone rivaling the fabled Huntress," the queen said, grinning. Lydia tried to hide her smile but failed miserably in the end. She does take pride in pleasing her silver queen.

"You won't have to imagine, Danz. If I have my way, you'll never think about anyone else."

-oOo-

Winterfell came into view like a beacon of hope for the men and women born of the long summer. They had set up a massive field of tents outside the fortress, wrapping around. Fires were already set in preparation for the incoming soldiers.

For Oerion Skuldafn, it was a light at the end of a dark tunnel. He could basically feel Arya's presence as he scouted ahead. She'd written him, yes, but he needed to see for himself that she was healthy.

The dragonborn had imagined this for a fortnight. Those steel gray eyes are forever burned into his memories. Not unlike the Thu'um that bounces around in his mind. The voice of Akatosh, the Dragon God of Time, is muted against the ferocity of his She Wolf's voice. Like the songs his mother used to sing, she lulls him to awareness and draws him in.

The gates of Winterfell open slowly. Jon Snow, Jaime And Tyrion, and Ser Jorah Mormont ride up to join the queen. Oerion falls back beside her dutifully. His heart pounds in his ears when he faintly sees his wolf standing beside her sister. Etched in black and blurry from a distance.

"It's time," Daenerys said, sinking back into her regal role in the blink of an eye. Lydia saw the change in her and did the same. That ever present smirk smoothing out into statuesque seriousness. A visage of her lady mother before her.

Oerion was not so stoic as they rode up to the the fortress. Closing in, he took in every detail of the young Stark. Eyes searching like the experienced hunter that he is for new wounds or scars. Any sign of discomfort that he might see in her body language, finding none. He vowed to check later when they were alone. He caught those gray eyes and noticed the smile playing at her lips. Oerion thought he might jump off of his horse.

They stopped in front of the sisters and their brother, Bran Stark, along with they're smaller group of advisors. Jon Snow dismounted his horse swiftly. Overwhelmed with the sight of his missing siblings. Oerion watched the man lose his military bearing and wished he could do the same. He watched Jon pick Arya up and twirl her around with a small smile on his face. Seeing this made him warmer.

Daenerys spoke to Sansa and her advisors faster than he imagined. He put it down to the horrible chill the queen and her army must be feeling right now. Ori wanted to thank the nine for blessing the cold winds as they galloped inside. He caught Arya's eye as he quickly moved to the stable. Gray and Silver clashing as time slowed around them. He could have swore he saw those wild eyes watering.

As he tied his horse to a post as fast as he could to get to her, Arya tapped the back of his ornate armor, grinning happily. Oerion jumped like a frightened horse and turned around. Arya stood holding back snickers at his expression. She forgot how effected her dragon was by her. He looked like he saw a ghost. Considering she had seemingly transported over to him, she understood.

He looked around to make sure they were alone. Only to see the bustle of the people bringing in rations and carrying them out for the new soldiers that would sleep outside the walls. His sister and Lydia were nowhere to seen. _Good_. Jon Snow and Ser Jorah helped with the work as well. _Even better._

Arya rolled her eyes at his need to be aware of all the eyes and ears around him. If she wanted to kiss him, she would. Whether her brother saw it or not. _What is mine is no one else's concern._

Their eyes connect finally and all is lost around them. Arya felt like she had waited eons to see him again. It felt almost surreal to see her pale dragon in all his warrior regalia. Looking every bit the formidable opponent he is. There is no doubt left in her heart now. She _will_ _never_ have to be apart from him again. _This one is all mine._

Her eyes narrowed, wandering over his body. Scrutinizing what little skin could see. She was determined to have a better look later. His armor is good for protecting but horrible for spotting injuries. She barely has the patience to wait until later. Anxiety grips at her mind.

"You're alive," Arya said, staring into those ethereal eyes. Her heart pounds against her chest as he steps a bit closer. His plumb lips pulling into a soft smile, so full of relief that she gets butterflies.

"And so are you," Oerion replies, grabbing her small hands. They are cold, unlike his. He caresses them absentmindedly. Arya can barely contain her need to hold him. To kiss him. "I thought I would come back to you, scoop you up like a fair maiden, and run off to some island where no one can find us. I like reality much better."

Arya laughed genuinely for the first time since he left. The image he evoked was nothing like her and he knew as much which made it more endearing. "That sounds appealing, dragon, but you know well enough that I love a good fight."

Oerion wrapped his arms around Arya confidently. All the nervousness he harbored swiftly transforming into comfort and adoration. Arya bit her lip against a face splitting smile.

"And that in itself is why I'll never leave your side, She Wolf."

Arya's eyes ran over the planes of Oerion's chiseled face slowly. Her body heats up as he leans toward her. Those thick, rosy lips descending in slow motion. Images of the night of their first kiss came flooding back. He made her feel things she never felt before. He left her wanting something more... _wild._ This time there was nothing stopping them fr-

 _Lips like clouds bounced off her forehead._

"Now let us go inside. You have to meet my sister and Daenerys. Or, her grace. Whatever she wants to be called these days. You and Lydia are just alike in ways. She's more-"

Arya glared at her intended as he pulled her toward the main hall, chattering nonstop. His large hand making it impossible to escape, though she didn't even think about it. All she knew was that those lips were hers and she'd have them where she wanted them regardless of his chasteness. She would have none of his chivalrous games.

 _Because wolves are possessive and they mate for life. No need to waste time._


	11. From Whence Hath You Come?

-o0o-

The main hall is illuminated in warm light. The chatter of the room is quieter than it had been now that the dragon queen's presence has been announced. They whisper and steal glances at the fabled woman and her consort. Not everyday does a woman proudly hang on the arm of another woman, claiming her so openly. Noone dares to say as much as a whispered insult.

Oerion and Arya walk into the room. The grinning beast of a man strode in with the youngest Stark sister on his arm like she was the most priceless gift he ever received. The young woman tried to hide her smile behind a scowl. Onlookers blanched at the odd pairing as they made their way to the Targaryen and her companions. They looked like the most queer pairing but none doubted the man's obvious delight in having the young She Wolf by his side.

The Northern Dragon stopped in front of his grinning sister and her mate with Arya beside him. Lydia ran her eyes over the smaller girl while Daenerys smiled indulgently. Oerion's sister could see that look in the young Stark's eyes. This one had seen death firsthand, no doubt. If what Ori told her was true, this girl is a perfect fit for her little brother.

"Arya Stark of Winterfell, this is my twin sister, Lydia Dragonborn of House Skuldafn, The Huntress," Oerion said, standing aside. He hoped they would get along well. He would hate to have to choose between his wolf and his sister. Family is first for the Skuldafns after all.

Arya tried to smile at the woman but it turned into a smirk. She noticed the amazing resemblance of the woman and her dragon. The same black, shiny hair and thick lips the color of pink roses. Those silver eyes that could make your heart stutter in your chest. She is a fine woman indeed.

Yes, she felt even closer to Ori just from looking at his sister.

"Hello, my lady. It is a pleasure to meet the only person capable of beating Oerion in combat," Arya said, bowing before her. Oerion glared at her but it was weak. Lydia laughed hysterically at the comment. Her pride shouting through the roof. _This girl is fine with me, she mused._

"It's my pleasure, really. My brother told me some things about you. I'd like to know if they are true before we are called to war with the Night King. If you're any good maybe you could help Ori and I finish the Queen's sword training."

Arya's eyes widened and looked to said queen. Daenerys was everything that Arya thought she'd be. She always imagined what Visenya Targaryen would look like and having a real one here blew her mind. She wondered if the silver haired woman knew where Dark Sister was. The sword was the one thing she desired to see before death came for here.

"I could use the help, Lady Stark. Oerion has spoken very highly of you. I might even let you meet my dragons," Daenerys said, snuggling closer to her love. Arya felt proud of Oerion. She told him offhandedly about her affinity for Targaryens and he remembered.

"I'm no lady but of course, your grace. I would love to be of use," she replied, smiling brightly for once. Her hand found Oerion's and she squeezed gratefully. The man's heart warmed for her.

"May we join you two," He said, not really asking at all. Arya and Oerion sat down beside them on the sofa lined with wolf fur. He wrapped his arm around Arya and exhaled heavily.

He was comfortable for the first time with his new family beside him.

-o0o-

The last remaining Starks, Skuldafns, and one lone Targaryen sat around the hearth of the main hall laughing. Jorah Mormont and the Lannisters sat drinking behind. It is a scene worthy of poems, songs, and portraits. The fire in the hearth crackled as the Stark children told the queen of their families lineage. The three dragons listened, enjoying the lore of a great house.

The tales of Bran the Builder building the wall and of Aegon the Conquerer naming Torrhen Stark the first Warden of the North. The two Skuldafns listened to the stories differently than Daenerys. Their family kept amazing record of the past. The mages in Wintersbane believed that accurate history of the house was more important than even their own spell books. For what it's worth, they had most of the history correct.

"We would ask her grace to bless us with the history of her house but we know most of it already. However, we know very little truth about the Dragons Beyond the Wall," Jon Snow said kindly. He had been quite curious about the two siblings since he met them.

The others looked at them then. Bran seemed like he knew something and Sansa was obviously intrigued. Arya and Daenerys, however, were looking up at their chosen Skuldafns expectantly. They wanted to know more than anyone else.

Oerion looked at Lydia and she looked back nodding approval. Silently they communicated they're cooperation of telling the story. What a beautiful story it is. Full of magic and deities unheard of in other parts of the world and ancient guilds now extinct.

Oerion took a breath and squeezed Arya's thigh, remembering what he'd been told and what he'd read. "House Skuldafn, which means Hell, began in Old Valyria with my namesake, Oerion The Dragonborn, First of His Name. It was said that the Dragon God of Time, Akatosh, blessed him with the knowledge of dragonstongue or Thu'um and the dragons blood.

He could tame dragons like no other and so he was highly sought after as a husband and a teacher of the Thu'um. He chose an archmage named Lydia, my sister's namesake, as his wife. For her devotion to Oerion, she was rewarded with the dragons blood as well but she could not utilize the Thu'um. She would not need it though. For she was a master of fire and ice spells.

No one knows if Oerion and his wife knew of the doom that would claim Old Valyria but they fled before it happened. He rode his massive dragon, Alduin the Worldeater, to Tamriel or Dawn's Beauty. Which you all know as Westeros. While Lydia rode her dragon, Odahviing, meaning Ice Wing. The only known ice dragon."

Daenerys gasped in surprise. An ice dragon was not something she'd heard of. She waited as her love began her tale.

Lydia grinned as the others listened with bated breath. Today they would understand the pride she wore like armor. "Once in Tamriel, the two Skuldafns had to build a keep for themselves. But, the Children of the Forrest or the Wood Elves were not happy with their arrival. Oerion and Lydia began making alliances with the Elves. They showed their respect to the old gods by praying to them like the children did. An alliance was made between the two and they promised to help build a stronghold for the Skuldafns. Later, the bloodlines would mingle bringing forth greensight and warging.

Before they could begin, Oerion met a man like no other he'd seen before. He was not Valyrian nor Essesian but one of the First Men. He was of dark hair and grey of eye like our forefather. Brandon the Builder met our forefather just after the wall was built."

The Starks were wide eyed as Lydia finished her part. All except Brandon Stark. The wise three eyed raven had seen it first hand. The odd, dark haired Oerion that looked so much like the one before him and Bran the Builder who looked like himself.

"Are you saying that Bran the Builder helped build your house," Arya asked incredulously. She was already in awe but now her mind was blown. Her dragon was closer to her than she thought. Arya looked up at him intrigued.

Oerion smiled down at her softly. He could see that she was loving the stories just as Daenerys was. "Yes, Bran vowed to help Oerion once he saw his dragons and his Thu'um in use. Having a Dragonborn on your side is invaluable.

Bran drew up the blueprints. Lydia Skuldafn and the children of the forest used odd magic which they layed into the foundation and stones. Oerion used Alduin to reinforce the walls of their stronghold which rise high into the sky. Alduin forged two thrones from his fiery breath which would serve as seats for the Lord and Lady of House Skuldafn. The thrones were named Dark Brother and Dark Sister. For two should always share power."

Lydia held her queen's hand as she remembered the next part of the lore. "They would come to call their seat of power Wintersbane. For the walls of Wintersbane held a magic that repelled the winds of winter. A magic that seemed to wear thin in this century.

Alduin and Odahviing, two of the last dragons, died and were buried outside the walls of Wintersbane. However, Odahviing's grave was said to have been moved to an unknown place. Oerion and Lydia invited many of the First Men and Wildlings to reside in their Keep. Lydia taught them magic and the ways of her lineage. The way of Sithis and The Dark Brotherhood.

They had many children whom they taught the ways of Lydia's lineage. All of them also learned the dragonstongue. This formal training was implemented for all children born in Wintersbane soon after. One of their children, Miraak, was truly gifted with the tongue. He would turn out to be the first true Dovahkiin.

When Oerion and Lydia died, Miraak took the title of Lord and his sister, Potema the Wolf Queen, took the title of Lady. Over the centuries our family became notorious for their battle tactics when challenged and their main faith. The Night Mother and Sithis are our chosen deity.You all may call him the Stranger.

The Dread Father and his terrible love gave birth to the Dark Brotherhood so very long ago. The Night Mother is his voice and only The Listener of the Black Hand can hear her demands. The Black Hand that is tattooed on our chests symbolizes the Tenets of The Dark Brotherhood.

Our jester, Cicero, was the last Listener. He died when the Night King sacked our home. Westeros was our killing ground just like the Faceless Men have Essos. When common folk wanted to give someone to the void they only had to say the Black Sacrament and an assassin would come running. Our house became one of the oldest and most feared."

The sounds of chatter in the hall had ceased eons ago to hear the two unknown warriors tell of their lineage. Now, one could hear a pin drop. Lydia and Oerion looked at one another with a smirk as the Starks urged them on. They didn't know the words of the Sacrament.

" _Sweet Mother, Sweet Mother. Send your child unto me. For the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear,"_ Bran Stark chanted with them. The northern dragons looked at him in surprise and he only gave a wistful smile as he continued. "And the words of House Skuldafn elicit fear from any who hear them spoken aloud."

The men behind them were still quiet as mice. They had taken the two foreigners for Wildlings but they were deadly wrong. Tyrion grinned as Jaime Lannister sipped his wine with wide eyes. He too hadn't known about the true tales of the Winter Dragons. He wouldn't be the one to cross them.

"I must say that I had many misconceptions about your house," Jon Snow said, looking completely shocked. Sansa patted his shoulder in agreement. The Skuldafns were seen as brutes no better than the Wildlings. Still, no sane man dared to wonder into the trees to find them.

"I feel much closer to you now that I know. However, I'm sure there is more to be said. I'll get it out of you before we leave this place," Daenerys whispered to Lydia. The huntress smiled and kissed her rosy cheek, figuratively bending the knee to her lover.

Arya squeezed Oerion's thigh and he looked down at her with raised brows. The young Stark grinned evilly. "You'll tell me the rest of it as well, dragon. Don't think you're getting out of this. The Dark Brotherhood sounds very interesting."

The northern dragon rolled his eyes and sighed. _Stubborn wolf. I've chosen correctly indeed._

-o0o-

 _Fin_


	12. Ship Name: ARION

**WARNING: SMUT, LEMON, LIME, SEX, FUCKING, SWEET LOVIN, ARYA AND OERION DOING NASTY THANGS. IF YOURE LIKE TWELVE DONT READ THIS. YOULL BUST A NUT AND ILL FEEL LIKE A PEDOBEAR.**

 **THANKS. ENJOY.**

-o0o-

The corridor is dimly lit by torches. It sets a somber mood as they walk toward Arya's chambers. Thoughts of the coming war spring forth in her mind. The thought of losing Oerion, the first man she found herself falling for, made her chest ache like she had been struck.

She vowed not to lose him in this battle. She wouldn't lose sight of him in the fray. Nor would she allow any of the wights to overwhelm him. Arya would go to war with the gods if it ensured his place next to her. Ever since he arrived she felt more like Arya Stark of Winterfell. Like the She Wolf that she is.

She grabs his hand as they reach her chamber door. His is warm to the touch and she wonders if the rest of him is so inviting. Her lips twitch at the thought. _He is mine to touch._ She wonders if he feels this same anticipation growing inside him. He is so oblivious sometimes that she doubts it.

Oerion follows her into the room casually. He'd rarely been to her room when he was last here. It was always Arya creeping into his room to annoy him or ask questions. The candles are lit and the room is warm from the crackling hearth. A bit of sweat creeps upon his brow as he sits on her bed. When she locks the door, Oerion blinks in surprise.

"Not expecting any visitors, I presume," Oerion said, brows raised into his hairline. Arya shakes her head at him slowly, blowing out a few of the candles. The dragon purses his lips in confusion as the room gets dimmer. He wonders what she's playing at.

Arya comes to stand a few feet in front of him silently. Just watching his chiseled face twist into confusion. "It is quite warm, my lord. I must remove these layers, if that is alright with you?"

Oerion's eyes widen minutely before he catches it. His heart beats a bit faster in his chest. Arya does not wait for his response as she begins removing her light armor. The dragon breathes deeply as she moves toward him. The small smirk on her lips elicits butterflies in his stomach.

"My lord, I can't quite reach the ties on the back. Would you be so kind as to assist me," she rasped, innocence oozing from her tone. When he nods slowly, she turns around between his legs. Her smirk is fullblown but nerves make themselves known. She's never done what she plans to do.

Oerion's fingers are sure as they begin to undo the ties on the back of her tunic. Although, inside he is driving himself insane with apprehension. It doesn't help that he can feel his body reacting to her being so close. He bites his lip against a groan when her pale skin reveals itself to him.

The tunic falls to the ground with a thud and her breaches are next. He can't stop himself from touching her. A large, warm hand splays out over her soft back gently. Arya is suddenly more nervous than ever. His touch is like sparks digging into her skin as it slides down her back. She can almost feel his eyes boring into her.

Arya steps away from him reluctantly. When she turns around, he is towering over her. The look in his eyes is unmistakable. She feels wanted and desired. Most of all, she feels loved and adored. This ominous man is not what she expected when she first saw him. So dangerous but so soft and pliant with her. _Do I deserve this man after all I've done, mother?_

You are a visage of love and beauty, Arya," Oerion whispered, a soft smile playing over his thick lips. Arya blushed a deep red at his praise. She noticed with annoyance that he was still fully armored.

Her small hands turned him around gently and she felt powerful. Though he could have stayed where he was easily, her dragon was entranced by her. Arya began removing his bulky armor rather easily. When the ties came completely undone, he tossed the heavy material across the room.

Her eyes widened as his intricate tattoos revealed themselves to her for the second time. The night of their first kiss she hadn't paid enough attention to them, but now she wanted to trace them all with her lips. Instead, her small finger traced over the words on his back. _In Blood and Fear._

Oerion tried to remain still under her ministrations. Her fingertips ghosted over his skin, turning it to gooseflesh immediately. He was already as hard as the Wall and as naked as the day he was born. His primal mind wanted to take her then and there like he would have a year ago. But, this is his wolf and he will allow her anything.

"Beautiful...turn around," she ordered. Oerion bit his lip and did as told. This demanding side of her made his body ache even more for her. He watched her eyes trail down the front of him deliciously slow, taking in everything.

Arya's eyes widened to saucers at the sight of him so exposed. Her sex clenched against her will as her fingers ran over his sculpted stomach. The tattoos on his chest flexed as he tensed his muscles. The proof of his desire stuck out proudly, nudging her, and she ached to touch it. She doubted her fingers would be able to wrap around it. She doubted it would even fit inside of her.

"You are perfection...but I've never done this before," Arya said quietly. She didn't dare look at him for fear of disappointment. Maybe he wanted someone who knew what to do. The only thing she knows how to do is kill.

Oerion rolled his silver eyes and picked her up like she weighed nothing. He laughed when her squeal reached his ears. The feeling of her heated center against his abdomen sent chills down his spine. The lidded look of arousal she held and the small twitch of her hips didn't go unnoticed.

"I will guide you through this if you want to do it, Arya. At any point, if you feel uncomfortable or you want to stop, we _will_ stop. Don't be afraid to speak to me," Ori said vehemently. He looked into her eyes to see if she understood completely. All of the love they held made him burst into flames. She nodded without hesitation.

Oerion gently laid her down in the furs. Just the sight of her splayed out for him made his member twitch with anticipation. Arya moaned as his large hand smoothed down the front of her body. It left a path of fire to her already sopping center. His fingertips ghosted over her most delicate part and she gasped at the new sensation.

"I've never seen such beauty in my life, Arya." Her breath left her as he crawled on top of her. His burly chest dragging across her breasts, tickling her sensitive buds. She felt boxed in but never trapped. She wanted to be here with him. Wanted him to do things that she didn't quite understand yet.

Oerion kissed her deeply. Having her small body under him made him feel powerful but also gentler than ever. Arya gasped for air as his member nudged her in the stomach. It was hot and throbbing against her. Her nails dig into his lower back making him groan.

He dove into her neck, nipping and sucking with abandon. His tongue and lips traveled down to her smal breasts reverently. He sucked one into his mouth slowly, eyes watching Arya's face contort with pleasure. Her chest rose and fell harshly under his mouth. She felt like a blaze was erupting between her legs. She wanted him down there.

"Ori," she gasped, fingers twisting into his long locks. He almost growled when her hips rolled into him. Her wet heat slicking over his hard member. "Please."

He smiled around her taut nipple and gave it a parting lick. His wolf wanted him. That much he was sure. He could practically feel the heat rolling off of her. Oerion kissed down her toned stomach, steel gray connecting with silver over pale skin. He kissed her mound softly, her hips canting upward to meet him.

"As you wish," he whispered. He wouldn't keep his wolf waiting for long.

Arya's eyes rolled into the back of her head as those plump lips and that talented tongue met her most sensitive place. She'd only ever heard of this in Bravos. Thy called it the Dornish kiss. She wanted to call it nirvana. For she felt like her soul was leaving her body when he sucked at her swollen bundle of nerves.

"Seven hells," she cried. Her hands made fists in his hair to pull him close. Oerion smiled against her and dove in deeper. His large hands wrapped around the inside of her thighs, keeping them planted to the bed. There was nowhere she could run and it was building so fast.

She grunted unexpectedly as a large finger snuck into her entrance. Her eyes widened and her hips grew a mind of their own. Bucking and rolling hard as she got closer to the edge of something unknown and powerful. Another finger slipped into her and her mind went blank. She didn't realize that she was moaning like a bitch in heat.

It felt like a large stretch. His fingers scissored inside of her deliciously. That long, powerful tongue lasting against her, mouth sucking gently. Arya's chest rose from the bed like she was possessed and suddenly the powerful tension in her lower belly released like a bow. White light burst behind her eyes and her breaths came raggedly. Her body shook with aftershocks.

Oerion licked his lips and fingers clean, his lady's eyes watching him lazily. She expected to feel drained after...whatever blessing he had just bestowed upon her, but she sat up on her elbows and grinned. Oerion was pleased with her recovery.

"You wish to continue? I thought you might be done after such a powerful reaction," he said, brow cocked in a challenge. Arya knew only a little about lying with a man but she wanted to touch him. Make him feel like she did.

She crawled up the bed and sat on her knees. Oerion followed and lie back against the headboard. "I want to touch you...like you touched me. I just don't know what to do," she said quietly.

Oerion's breath caught in his throat as she moved in between his legs. Her hands caressed his thighs softly, moving closer to where he wanted her. He almost felt like a monster for corrupting her innocence but he shook the thought away. His wolf is a woman and dangerous at that. She can do as she pleases.

"Just do what you feel, Arya. I will guide you through it if need be." His voice was hoarse with arousal and Arya rejoiced. Only she could do this to him. Only she is allowed to see him this way.

Her hands wrapped around the swollen member between his legs, fingers barely closing around it. He gasped and bucked his hips when she tugged gently. She liked the sounds he made and quickened her pace.

Oerion flushed watching her go to work on him. He tugged at his hair as she went faster, both hand moved up and down his shaft. His breaths came short when she looked into his eyes and leaned forward. He thought he would faint.

"You are so hot down here. It's like holding a fire," Arya said in awe. Having him in her hands, at her mercy, was becoming addictive. A fluid oozed from him and she looked on in wonder. She had heard of women pleasing men with their mouths before. She wanted to try it.

The northern dragon watched as his beloved assassin's mouth descended upon him. He moved to stop her, for he thought it was too much for her first bedding, but it was too late. His toes curled as she enveloped the head into her hot mouth. So small and yet fitting him inside snugly.

"Yes, Arya. That feels good," he moaned. He couldn't keep his eyes opened as she sucked and licked him. Her hands moved in tandem with her mouth making him want to growl. It felt like coming home. He wanted more.

Arya liked having him in her mouth. She could feel every throb and pulse of his cock against her tongue. Her dragon tastes like sweet rolls and something tangy. What she loves most are his reactions. The way his eyes roll into the back of his head, and his hands fist in his hair to keep himself from grabbing her. His chiseled body tenses deliciously as she takes him deeper.

"Arya," he chokes, toes curling painfully. He grabs her shoulders gently to stop her from this delicious torture. She scowls at him for stopping her. "Come here."

Arya's brows raise and she climbs on top of him eagerly. He leans up and kisses her hard. All restrain slowly draining away as she ruts against his cock, leaving her juices coating him. Arya wants him inside of her, she realizes. She wants it now.

Oerion gets the hint finally when she scratches his back rather hard. A growl builds in his chest and he pins her beneath him. Arya bites her lip and moans loudly when he rubs his arousal against her entrance. _How will it fit? I fear I'll tear._

Relax and take deep breaths. This might hurt for a bit but I promise it will get better. I don't ever want to hurt you," he whispered in her ear. Arya nodded frantically, already writhing as his weeping head massaged her clit.

Oerion took a deep breath to steady himself and guided his painfully hard cock to her entrance. As he pushed in an inch, Arya grunted quietly. It was so hot and wet and tight. He thought he would lose his mind but he stopped immediately, her dull nails dug into the tattoo on his back deliciously. He looked at her face, contorted in pain, and felt horrible.

"I'm sorry. We can stop if you wish," he said gently. Arya shook her head and buried her face in his chest. She'd never felt anything like this. It wasn't the worst pain but it was uncomfortable. She just needed a minute.

"It's okay. It's okay. Go slowly. It's just very new."

Oerion kissed her cheek and moved ever so slowly. As he sank in further, her barrier broke and Arya bit into his shoulder _hard._ He hissed and stopped moving altogether. The dragon just knew that she broke skin and there would possibly be a scar. He didn't care however. It was only fair.

"Seven fucking hells," she growled. Oerion almost laughed but he held it in. If he did then he would move and she'd be hurt. She'd also kill him for good measure. "Curse you and your fucking cock!"

He hid in her neck and kept himself still as she gasped and scratched him to hell. Arya felt like she'd been split in two but the pain didn't last long. That pulsing pain quickly morphed into an ache that only her dragon make go away. She felt so full and surrounded by him. Her hips thrusted jerkily and she moaned.

"Are you ready," Oerion asked tentatively. Arya nodded fast, hips bucking to try and pull him deeper. He moaned and covered her with his body, burying his head in her small neck as her hands moved to his ass.

Arya gasped as he sank into her deeper, only to pull back and repeat. Each time it felt like being filled to the brim until he bottomed out completely. She wrapped her arms around him to keep him deep inside her like that. She felt so close and connected, surrounded by love and pleasure.

"Gods, I love you Ori. Seven hells, I love you," she mumbled intelligibly. Her dragon whispered sweet words in her ear that she couldn't totally understand. All she could focus on was the stretching and the pleasure he was causing. "Yes, deeper!"

Oerion moaned into her neck. He had his share of women in his life. He'd had older women and younger women. Women known for pleasing men. This beat anything he could imagine. His wolf was writhing beneath him so deliciously. He wanted this forever.

"I love you too, Arya. Come here," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around her. Oerion turned them over so that she was on top and his toes curled as she began to move. He didn't expect her to be this natural.

Arya felt something primal rising inside her in this position. Looking upon her dragon's face and seeing the evidence of his love and his pleasure. His hands gripped her waist harshly as she dropped back down on him. She felt strong and sexy. She felt like a woman.

"You're mine, Ori. No one else can...have you...like this," Arya moaned brokenly. Her small hands held his shoulders down as she rode him like a stallion. She could feel him so deep that it felt like he touched her soul. _Yes, I'm going to explode again._

Yes, yours," Oerion grunted, his hips beginning to meet hers. He couldn't hold on much longer. He was beginning to tighten up as her walls closed in around him like a vice. Her fingers constricting around his throat.

"Oh-"

Arya's moan was cut off by that powerful wave of pleasure coursing through her. She went slack as he continued to thrust into her, filling her up with his seed. She thought she might explode again as the warm fluid heated her from the inside.

Oerion gasped as his orgasm finally let him go. Arya collapsed on his chest gasping for air and he wrapped his weak arms around her. _This is nirvana. This will be my wife._ He extracted himself out of her gently and she moaned. A lazy smile came to his face that he couldn't stop.

"That was nothing like I thought it would be," Arya slurred against his chest. Oerion chuckled quietly and squeezed her tighter. She felt completely safe and happy. "It was like I exploded into a thousand pieces."

"That's called an orgasm," Oerion said, bursting with laughter. Arya pinched his nipple and he stopped immediately. Hopefully, she wouldn't make that a habit. Her finger circled it and she smiled evilly. Oerion felt a sense of dread wash over him when she sat up on her elbows.

"Again."

 _If the wights don't kill me then my Wolf will._

-o0o-


End file.
